Family and Love
by Ellie.CSI LV M NY fan
Summary: CSI's get together and surprises uncover as they go through what maybe the Christmas of a lifetime


"Sweet dreams, baby girl." Marisol Wolfe pressed one last kiss to her daughter's head before laying her in the crib, whereupon she simply rolled over and continued to sleep.

For a few minutes, Marisol just watched the baby dream, but her thoughts were interrupted by a banging on the door. She frowned and left the nursery, closing the door quietly behind her.

The banging stopped, but Marisol didn't drop her guard for a second; Ryan was at work and she refused to endanger Annabelle in any way. Quietly, she slipped her gun out of the holster hanging over the back of one of the chairs and moved to the door, looking through the peep-hole.

She couldn't see anyone, which ruled out Cardoza, who had taken compassionate leave from Miami's finest since Natalia Boa Vista was killed a month ago; cab drivers the city over had stopped taking him to whatever bar he directed them to and began taking him straight to their apartment building.

Marisol glanced down at the gun in her hand and was silently chiding herself for being so paranoid – clearly someone had needed help and had moved onto the next apartment when there was no answer – when the knocking started again, weaker this time and lower down.

"Ryan…"

The voice was low and tremulous, as though its owner was crying. But the thing that caught Marisol's attention was that it was female. And Ryan didn't have any female relatives – Wolfe's only make boys, he'd told her while she was pregnant with Annabelle.

Oh, tell me this isn't an ex; I don't have the energy to deal with this right now.

Slowly, Marisol opened the door a little, to find a woman her age slumped on the floor beside the door, a lone tear making its way down her cheek. Transferring her piece to her left hand, she crouched down and put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Hi."

The woman lifted her head and Marisol bit back a gasp. Molly. Molly Sloan.

She knew very little about the detective she had replaced, only that she and Ryan had been best friends ("she was my sister," he had explained, when insisting they give Annabelle Molly as her middle name). In fact, the only time her curiosity had come close to being sated was the murder charge they finally locked Andrew Carlos up for: the team had spent the case thinking they were solving Molly's murder, going by the digital reconstruction of the skull and the clues that had been left behind. Soon after Carlo's arrest, Tom had finally gotten around to checking Molly's dental records and the truth had been realized; the victim, although bearing a stunning resemblance to the ex-CSI, was a complete stranger and Molly had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Now, here she was, back in Miami, outside Marisol's front door.

"Sorry." Molly wiped her eyes hurriedly. "I was looking for someone. I went to his old apartment; one of his neighbors mentioned this address…"

"Ryan's at work." Marisol explained, suddenly feeling very nervous. "My name's Marisol, Marisol Santiago. Well, Wolfe now, actually."

Although her eyes were still wet, Molly's face broke into a smile and she accepted the other woman's help to her feet before embracing her tightly. "You mean he finally stepped up?!"

"Well, it was a little more complicated than that." Marisol admitted. "Do you wanna come in? Ryan should be home in an hour or so."

"That'd be great, thanks." Molly replied, following Marisol in.

Marisol followed her gaze to her hand and blushed. "Sorry. You can't be too careful." She put her gun away and gestured to the kitchen table. "Do you want a coffee or something? You sounded upset outside."

"Coffee would be great, thanks." Molly sighed. "It's Andrew Carlos. I took a week's vacation at Dad's insistence and when I got back, he'd vanished. I've been tracking the company all over America and I can't find a trace of him."

Marisol raised an eyebrow. "Unsurprising. He's in prison."

Molly's smile grew. "Tell me you're not joking."

Marisol couldn't help smiling as well. "No, we got him. On your murder actually. Well, obviously it wasn't your murder, but we thought it was and…"

"Marisol." Molly cut in. "Why don't you start from the beginning? And throw in how you and Wolfe hooked up while you're at it."

Marisol handed her a mug of coffee and sat down, leaning back in her chair to survey her companion. There were things about her and Ryan that not even he knew and it would be nice to finally get it all out. "Alright. First of all, I guess you should know that I was the detective Horatio brought in to replace you."

"And…?" Molly prompted. "Wait. Were you expecting me to resent you for that?"

"No." Marisol smiled slightly. "I've heard enough about you to know that you wouldn't. I … I resented you for it though." She fell into a thoughtful silence, wondering how to explain her thoughts.

Molly didn't push for her to continue, letting her work things through.

Finally, Marisol let out a shaky breath. "I grew up in Barcelona, in Spain. It's tiny, compared to Miami. When I heard that Horatio had requested me personally, I knew I couldn't pass it up. I didn't know why you'd left or been fired or whatever; it didn't matter to me. But moving to a big city, away from my family, it scared me."

Molly reached across the table and took her hand. "I bet. It scared me and I only moved from Florida."

"I probably shouldn't listen to the lab techs…" Marisol began.

Molly snorted. "They're the cheerleaders of the CSI lab, Marisol; anything that comes out of their mouth outside of evidence analysis is pure crap. But go on."

"After every case I worked, I'd hear them in the locker room: 'Molly wouldn't have done it that way'." Marisol sighed, shaking her head. "I know it's stupid, but it got to me. And Ryan…"

"Oh, I thought it'd have something to do with him." Molly smirked knowingly. "Ryan Wolfe can act just like a spoilt child sometimes. What did he do to you?"

Marisol laughed. "Well, first day on the job, some guy gets dumped in the tiger enclosure. I get there and Horatio tells me that I need to hold the tiger's jaw so he can take an impression. Before I have time to get my gloves on, Ryan's at my side. "Just take a deep breath," he told me, "and don't let him know you're afraid, because he can sense when you're nervous." I pointed out that the tiger was tranquilized and he said, "I was talking about Horatio. And make sure you call him sir."

Molly winced. "Oh, that's low! Horatio hates that!"

Marisol sighed. "Yeah, I figured that out. Don't get me wrong, Horatio and Calleigh and Eric and Tom … they were all great. But I always felt like 'the country girl'. Ryan constantly calling me 'Latina' didn't help. But time went by and it got a little better. I mean, he still called me that, but it was more of a … more of a nickname than anything else. And I just got tired of telling him to stop."

Molly chuckled. "I know that feeling."

Marisol laughed with her and let herself ramble for a while about old cases, memories flittering in and out of her mind…

…finding Ryan with Aaron and Eric, watching Ellie Field's sex-tape…

…demonstrating how a doll-doctor had been holding one of his 'patients' too tightly for a coincidence and finishing up just holding hands in the middle of the street, until both realized what they were doing…

…being called to a crime scene in the middle of her first date in Miami and feeling really irritated, until Ryan caught sight of her formal attire and stood up to greet her ("Well hello, Miss Santiago. You clean up nice.")…

…meeting him at Cozy's and telling him something about Horatio that he didn't know…

…making him lose a bet by eating deep-fried spiders, but winning a dinner with him in the process, however unconventional the meal had been…

…bribing him to help her with a reconstruction and ending up in his arms as he carried her across a roof-top garden…

…Ryan teasing her about the necrophilia Americano bugs…

…having a perfectly normal conversation with him about the merits of phone sex (it was only afterwards that she realized how weird that was)…

…meeting him at the scene of Harold "Batman" Man's murder and reciting what she knew about the Vic and his surprise at her baseball knowledge ("it's dangerous," he'd said, "I might ask you to marry me.")…

But now her voice faltered, remembering what came next.

Molly sighed. "I'm guessing something big happened."

"Yeah, we got an old homicide." Marisol confirmed. "Someone called in telling us where we could find a body and then shot himself. We found the body with a cigarette butt … the DNA came back to Ryan."

"No…" Molly whispered. "Ryan wouldn't…"

"I know." Marisol took a deep breath. "That's why I showed Ryan the results first. He took them to Horatio; told him he only ran with Harper Wood once, but had left when he realized there was a kid tied up in the back of the trunk and that they were gonna hurt him. We were all outside the office and he looked at me … straight at me … ignored the others … and the look in his eyes … it was like he was begging me not to give up on him. And Ryan Wolfe does not beg."

"No, he doesn't." Molly frowned. "So what happened?"

Marisol sighed. "Ian happened. He went after the actual murderer and confronted him wearing a wire. Long story short, Ryan ended up cleared and Ian ended up in hospital, brain-dead. They … They pulled the plug three months later."

"Oh God…" Molly ran a hand through her hair. "I should have been here."

Marisol squeezed her hand. "Ryan took it bad, but he doesn't blame you for that. I heard very little about you, actually, until…"

"Until Carlos upped the ante." Molly guessed, "Alright, what happened."

Marisol took a deep breath, remembering the day clearly. "We'd found a body in the front of a burned out car. It couldn't belong to the car's owner – he was a male and Tom said the body was definitely female. And then … Eric started a digital reconstruction and paged us all 911…"

Marisol was the first person to reach the room, and found Eric Delko with Calleigh Duquesne, both staring at a skull on the computer screen. "What's going on?"

To her surprise, the greeting Delko gave her was hollow, empty, and Calleigh let out a sob, covering her mouth with one hand.

"What's happened?" Marisol repeated, with more conviction, hurrying to Calleigh's side. "Calleigh?"

Almost immediately, she heard two voices echo her question and glanced over her shoulder to see Horatio Caine enter with Ryan.

Delko, who had clearly had time to get over whatever shock had caught Calleigh's attention, leaned in to whisper in Marisol's ear, "Watch Wolfe for me; someone's got to."

Marisol swallowed hard and glanced at Calleigh, before moving back slightly, keeping one eye her regular crime scene partner.

Delko cleared his throat, catching her attention again. "That's a scan of the skull of the victim. This…" he pressed a button, giving the skull flesh and skin once more. "…is a 3D reconstruction. This…" a sketch of a face appeared over the top of the skull "…is a sketch of what the victim should have looked like. And this…" A photograph appeared transparent over the top of that, leaving no doubt that it was the same person. "This is Detective Molly Sloan."

Horatio let out a shaky breath and pulled Calleigh into his arms, letting her cry into his shirt. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was her sobs. Then…

BANG!

Marisol jumped as Ryan's fist hit the wall, almost cracking the plaster, before he sank to the ground, not even bothering to hide the tears. She hesitated for a second – she and Ryan worked together a lot, but that was it; even when Calleigh had been in the hospital and she had broken down halfway through an interrogation, Ryan had squeezed her arm and told her they had to solve the case.

Maybe that was the way he worked.

But it wasn't her way. Tentatively, she crouched beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, not sure if he would want her comfort – she was, after all, Molly's replacement – but he leaned into her, prompting her to embrace him tightly, her eyes straying to the photograph…

"It wasn't how I'd imagined you." Marisol commented.

"Well, no, I should think you'd imagined me alive." Molly retorted.

Marisol laughed. "No. That's not what I meant. I meant that … I hadn't been told an awful lot about you and … they made you sound like Superwoman. I don't know what I expected, I guess, just someone … less human. Am I making sense?"

Molly was silent for a minute. "No. But I understand anyway."

Marisol shook her head. "All we really focused on was how we'd get the son of a bitch that did this. You'd … I mean, the victim ... she'd been beaten to death. We thought it was the owner of the car at first, because he reported that he'd just seen his car being stolen three hours after we found it burned out."

Molly snorted. "When will these people learn? If you're gonna lie, at least try to make it convincing!"

"I know, right?" Marisol agreed. "Ryan walked into the precinct just as we were taking him out of interrogation. Three officers had to hold him back; it was the full alpha male thing. "Is that him? Is that the scum-bag who killed Molly? Oh come on, Horatio; just give me five minutes. I'll get him to crack." I think he could have as well." She added as an afterthought.

Molly raised an eyebrow. "I thought the guy was innocent."

"He was." Marisol confirmed. "But you didn't see the look in Ryan's eyes. Didn't you ever hear the joke about the MDPD officer sent in to a forest to look for a rabbit?"

Molly frowned. "No."

"He emerged with a badly-beaten bear, who was crying "I'm a rabbit! I'm a rabbit!"" Marisol smirked.

Molly laughed. "Very nice. When did you realize it was Carlos?"

"When we realized you'd been following him." Marisol answered quietly. "She did look stunningly like you, Molly; we know who she is now. He was trying to kill you; he started stalking another victim assuming you'd be following him. Our Vic definitely noticed, went to see if the girl was okay. She … she never stood a chance." She took a sip of coffee, trying to read Molly's expression. "She left bite-marks on the armrest and on him. That was enough."

Molly shook her head again and buried her face in her hands, silent sobs overtaking her body. Without hesitating, Marisol moved her chair round next to Molly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug and letting her crying into her shoulder.

It took Molly several minutes to compose herself, but it was less time than Marisol had anticipated. She loosened her grip and handed the other woman a tissue, giving her time to dry her eyes.

"I can't believe it." Molly muttered. "All that work to stop him raping again and he went and murdered someone."

"You wouldn't have stood a chance either." Marisol pointed out gently.

"But there'd have been a reason for me…" Molly began.

"Everything happens for a reason." Marisol interrupted firmly. "Ryan wouldn't have coped. As it was, I got a call at 3am the night in between from a bartender."

Molly groaned. "I'm gonna have to have a word with him about that. Come on, we've got this far; let's hear the rest of it."

Marisol smiled weakly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Molly nodded. "Yeah. Let's hear it."

"Well, there was a huge bomb threat, but that was cleared up pretty quickly. Except the first bomb went off with Horatio and Jesse in the building…"

Molly gasped. "Were they okay?"

Marisol winced, remembering the sight of Cardoza being carted out by EMT officers. "Jesse nearly died; if it weren't for Horatio, he may well have done. It looked like half his stomach had been blown away." She shuddered involuntarily. "The only reason I wasn't inside was because I'd left one of my cases in the car."

"And let me guess…" Molly smirked slightly. "Ryan was the first person to notice you were injured in any way."

Marisol blushed slightly. "It was just a small cut. But yeah. About a month later … actually, it might have been closer to two, but it's not really important, we had this case where three girls dressed up as Holly Golightly to rob a jewellery store. One we found dead and then we found out there was a diamond smuggling ring involved…" She shook her head. "It's never open and close, is it? Before SWAT could move in, we caught one of the others, who told us that they had the third held hostage; she had twenty minutes to get everything they took or they were going to kill her. We didn't have enough time to wait for undercover, so I said I'd do it. We were the same size and they'd been wearing wigs."

Molly nodded understandingly. "I did the same thing, but I got found out. Calleigh said Ryan looked like he was ready to ignore her orders and just run in."

Marisol bit her lip. "Well, he went one better this time. He did ignore her orders and run in."

"Who are you?"

Marisol tried to keep her voice steady. "Hailey."

The man picked up a framed picture on the desk and she felt her heart quicken. If that picture was of the three girls, he would know she wasn't who she said she was.

He slammed the picture down with such force the glass shattered and lifted his gun so it was aimed at her face. "Try again. Who are you?"

Marisol didn't respond.

"Who are you?!" He repeated.

Without blinking, Marisol dropped the bag in her hand and the flash bomb went off. In the same second, she dove forward, knocking the hostage to the floor as smoke filled the room. The noise that came with it surprised her, making her ears ring and blocking out the sounds of the SWAT team moving in.

But one voice was audible over even that. "Marisol? Marisol?"

"Ryan." Marisol staggered to her feet, knowing the hostage – Danielle? Dana? – would be taken care of. She must have been imagining it; Ryan never used her real name. It was always Latina, which she'd hated to start with but now made her feel … safe.

No matter what was going on in her life, Ryan was constant: Latina implied fun, friendship and an unspoken bond between them.

She had never expected him to call her name – her real name – with such worry and desperation

Yet here he was, his hands steadying her, staying on her arms even after she'd got her balance, one moving to cup her face, as if reassuring himself that she was alright, before pulling her into his arms.

Marisol buried her face into his strong chest, breathing in the scent that was just unmistakably him.

Molly smiled at the red tinting Marisol's cheeks. "And then he asked you out."

Marisol's blush deepened. "Yeah. And I…" She sighed. "I stood him up."

Molly's mouth fell open. "You what?"

"I stood him up." Marisol repeated heavily. "I was in two minds about accepting in the first place and then I got a call…" She sighed. "When I was fourteen, I was at a diner with my best friends. Apart from the waitress, we were the only people in there. While I was in the restroom, a man came in with a gun. I was the only witness … the only survivor. I thought I'd left it all behind, but…" She shook her head. "I got a call from Barcelona saying they'd arrested the guy but they'd need me to come back to testify."

"Ryan would have understood." Molly told her softly.

"Yeah, he would." Marisol agreed. "But everyone treated me differently back home after it happened, when people found out. Here … no one did. I didn't want sympathy. I didn't want to be 'the lucky one'; I sure as hell didn't feel lucky." She took another shaky breath. "I told Ryan that I really liked him, but I needed space to work some things through. He told me to take all the time I needed."

"That's Ryan." Molly agreed.

"Yeah." Marisol smiled fondly. "And I…" She was cut off by the phone ringing, swiftly followed by a cry coming from the nursery. "Damn. Could you…?"

"Sure." Molly got to her feet and followed Marisol's gesture towards the other room.

Marisol grabbed the phone. "Santiago."

"Marisol, it's me." Tom Erikson's voice told her. "I need you in autopsy right now. It's important. Don't let anyone know you're here."

For a split-second, Marisol froze. Who had been brought in? But then she realized that Horatio would have phoned if it was something like that. "Alright. See you in a few." She hung up and headed into the nursery, stopping in the doorway with a smile.

Molly had managed to soothe Annabelle and was now chatting to her quietly, occasionally making her giggle. "She's beautiful."

Marisol started; unaware that Molly had noticed her. "Thank you. Her name's Annabelle, by the way. Annabelle Molly Wolfe."

Molly looked up sharply. "Really?"

"Would I joke?" Marisol asked in response. "Ryan named her. I wanted Mariana, but there you go."

"Mariana…?" Molly prompted.

"Molly." Marisol smiled. "There was never any doubt about her middle name." She sighed wearily. "That was Tom, says he needs me in autopsy. Normally, I take Annabelle in with me, but something tells me this needs to be kept quiet, or he'd have called someone on duty. I don't suppose you'd mind watching her for an hour or so until I get back?"

Molly looked down at the baby. "Well, I've never been much of a baby person, but I think we can work something out, right, Annabelle?"

"She hardly ever cries unless she's scared." Marisol told her, grabbing her coat, badge and gun out of habit. "There are bottles of milk in the fridge if she needs them – just test it before you give it to her – and the diapers are under the sink. But I changed her before I put her down, so they shouldn't be necessary." She kissed Annabelle's forehead. "Be good for Auntie Molly, sweetheart."

Molly smiled as the door closed; Marisol really did remind her of herself. "Well, then Annabelle. It's just you and me for a while." Auntie Molly. I like the sound of that.

Getting into the crime lab without anyone noticing was no easy task, but finally, by taking the goods elevator and taking the longer route, she made it to the autopsy lab without anyone seeing her. "Alright, I'm here." Marisol announced, closing the door firmly behind her. "What's going on and why did I need to sneak in?"

"Over here." Tom beckoned her over and she joined him next to one of the drawers. Her heart dropped when she saw the name on the card.

Det. Natalia Boa Vista.

"Tom, I can't do this." Marisol stated shakily, taking a step backwards.

"Just a second, Mrs. Wolfe." Tom requested. "I promise I didn't ask you to come and watch the autopsy."

"Why did her father request an autopsy anyway?" Marisol asked.

Tom sighed. "I think he just wanted to be reassured that nothing could have been done to save her. But that's not why I wanted you here." He opened the drawer and pulled it out, revealing Natalia lying under a sheet, looking as peaceful as though she were asleep.

Marisol couldn't help reaching out and brushing her dark brown hair away from her eyes, but this caused her to frown out of confusion rather than sadness. "Something's not right."

"Precisely my thoughts." Tom agreed. "These drawers are kept cool and ventilated to prevent decomposition, but there's not even a hint on her. And I've been putting this off for a month."

Trying to forget the fact that it was one of her best friends lying in front of her, Marisol lifted her hand. "She's too warm. And the freezer should have kept her in rigor." Without thinking, she shifted her grip to Nat's wrist; her eyes closed in pain and she moved to release her when something happened beneath her fingers.

"Tom…" Marisol whispered. "Have you checked her pulse?"

"Well, no, but I'd have thought that was…"

"Check it." Marisol insisted. "Tell me I'm not imagining things."

With a sigh, Tom felt Natalia's other wrist and then the side of her neck. He looked up at Marisol. "I felt it."

Marisol lifted a hand to stifle her sob, but it still echoed around the empty morgue. Somehow, Natalia Boa Vista was alive.

Chapter 2

After a few minutes, Marisol and Tom were still staring at Nat in silence.

"How is this even possible?" Marisol whispered. "Shouldn't she have … suffocated … or something? And how … how is she …?"

"Well, the only conclusion I can reach is that her heart restarted after they turned the monitor off." Tom answered. "In a comatose state, the body requires less oxygen, which is why she's still with us. The question is, Marisol, what do we do now?"

What do we do now? You're absolutely right; that is the question.

Then the door opening cut through her thoughts and she looked up sharply to see Aaron Michaels standing in the doorway and an idea flashed into her head.

"Aaron, shut the door and get over here."

Recognizing the determined flicker in her voice, Aaron did as he was told, faltering slightly as he caught sight of what they were standing next to. "What's up? Where's Annabelle?"

"She's with someone; don't worry." Marisol put a hand on his shoulder. "Nat is alive; we need to do something."

"A hospital?" Aaron suggested blankly.

"Will that do anything for her?" Marisol asked quietly.

"No." Tom sighed. "She's survived a month in this drawer without any form of support. Why do you ask?"

Marisol frowned. "I don't want Cardoza to find out she's alive and then lose her again; I don't think he'd be able to carry on. Plus, she hates hospitals."

"That bad?" Aaron questioned.

Marisol nodded. "If I had a dollar for every time he's turned up at our place in a state of … I don't even know how to describe it. So here's my idea. We carry her out the back entrance and take her back to my apartment. She can stay in our spare room until she wakes up."

"And when she does?" Tom prompted.

"We pretend you've put the autopsy off for that long." Marisol finished.

"What about her family?" Aaron asked. "They deserve to know."

"Well, we'll explain to them." Marisol agreed. "And to Horatio. But Jesse … I'm worried about him. I've already taken both his guns off him."

"Alright." Tom conceded. "Aaron, go and tell the others that you're leaving to pick up lunch and meet us at Marisol's apartment. We'll tell Horatio when we return. Marisol, give me a hand with Natalia."

Carefully, they sat her up and Marisol tied the back of the sheet so that her dignity was kept somewhat in tact. "Good job it's raining." She commented. "No one goes out in weather like this."

"Alright." Tom lifted the detective into his arms. "I need you to open doors; my keys are on the desk."

"Right." Marisol grabbed them and led the way through the maze of corridors, poking her head into the underground lot first, before making her way over to Tom's car. She climbed into the back seat and helped him get Nat in so her head was resting in her lap. "Okay, let's go."

As soon as they were in sunlight again, Marisol pulled out her cell-phone and dialed her home number, suddenly realizing that there could be a flaw in her plan.

"Wolfe residence."

"Molly, its Marisol. I'm on my way back. Has Cardoza been by at all?"

"Jesse Cardoza?" Molly asked, sounding puzzled. "No, why?"

"I'll tell you later." Marisol promised. "But if he does come by, I need you to get him out of there. It's absolutely vital that he's not there when we are. Use Annabelle against him if you have to."

"Okay, I'll do my best. See you in a minute."

"Molly?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, she called by this morning wanting to see Ryan." Marisol put her phone away. "Pull around the back and we'll take the service elevator."

Tom parked where Marisol indicated and she helped him lift Nat out of the car, before getting out herself. Within a few minutes, Aaron pulled in next to them and jumped out. "Now what? Ryan asked me to check in on you and Annabelle while I was out, so…"

"I'll make everyone sandwiches." Marisol rolled her eyes. "Two birds, one stone. Aaron, I need you to go around the front and make sure Cardoza hasn't turned up, alright?"

"Right." Aaron nodded, jogging in the direction she'd indicated.

Annabelle had woken up again, this time without crying, just looking up at her babysitter with wide, curious eyes.

"Well, hello, Miss Annabelle." Molly lifted her into her arms. "Had a nice nap?" She hadn't wanted to leave the baby's side while she slept, unused to dealing with children, but now she allowed herself to wander round the living room, gazing at the photographs.

The most prominent, she noticed, was a family portrait above the mantle, obviously professionally taken. Marisol was seated with Annabelle on her lap and Ryan was standing behind them, his eyes firmly on his wife and daughter, the love he had for them obvious in his gaze.

Molly smiled fondly. Ryan really was her brother in all but blood and it had always pained her to see him bounce from girl to girl so easily. It was good to see him finally with someone.

The knock at the door was unexpected. Surely Marisol has a key to her own front door. Uh oh, is that Cardoza?

Bracing herself, Molly opened the door, but it wasn't Detective Cardoza who stood in front of her; this guy seemed about a year younger than her and was about her height, whereas Cardoza, assuming neither had grown, was a good head above her. "Hi."

"Hi. Cardoza here?" He asked breathlessly.

Molly shook her head. "No."

"Good. Hey, Annabelle Boo!" He took the child from her as she reached out in recognition. "I'm Aaron Michaels, by the way."

"Molly Sloan." Molly shook his hand and watched his eyes light up in recognition.

"I thought I'd seen you somewhere. I work with Mari and Ryan at the lab." He explained. "I'm the CSI without the badge."

Molly laughed. "I see. What's going on?"

"Did you ever meet Detective Boa Vista?" Aaron asked, glancing down the hall before leaning against the door-frame.

"Er … no." Molly frowned. "At least I don't think so."

"She was Cardoza's partner." Aaron leaned in slightly. "In more ways than one, if you get my meaning."

"Ah." Molly nodded. "What happened?"

"We thought she was killed a month ago." Aaron explained. "There was a shoot-out and she lost too much blood; we were outside the room when she flat-lined. They repaired the damage, but it just wasn't enough."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here." Molly prompted.

"Yeah." Aaron took another careful look down the hall. "Tom finally got round to the autopsy today and she's alive. Thing is, Mari doesn't want us to tell Cardoza until we're sure she's not going to leave us again."

"Wow." Molly shook her head. "How much have I missed? You coming in?"

"Yeah, when they get here." Aaron visibly relaxed. "There you are."

Molly stepped back to let Aaron move past her and he was quickly followed by Marisol and Tom, who was carrying a woman her age with dark brown hair.

"Miss Sloan, I was wondering when you'd grace us with your presence once again."

Molly smiled at him. "I'll take that as 'welcome home'."

"I would." Marisol opened the door to the spare room and they let Natalia down on the bed, allowing Tom to embrace Molly in welcome.

"We'll get her into something more appropriate later." Marisol told Molly, closing the door with a relieved sigh. "Right, sandwiches."

"Oh, Ryan also asked me to tell you that the case is going badly and he doesn't want to leave until it's sorted." Aaron told her. "So he'll be home later than he thought."

"Just tell him not to overdo it." Marisol responded, pulling a box out of the fridge. "Here. There should be enough in here for everyone."

"You're an angel, Marisol." Aaron told her sincerely, handing Annabelle to Tom. "How'd you know someone'd come for lunch?"

"Because Ryan told me about the case when he last phoned and I knew it'd be a long one and that he wouldn't leave until he solved it." Marisol answered. "I also knew that he'd send someone here to check on us."

Molly chuckled. "Sounds like Ryan."

"Alright." Marisol handed the box to Aaron. "You two get back to work; not a word about this to anyone just yet, but you'll want to inform her parents."

"Will do." Tom assured her, returning her daughter. "Come on, young man; back to the lab."

"It was nice meeting you. See you, Mari!"

"Same here."

"Bye."

The door closed behind the two men and Marisol deposited Annabelle in her playpen. "Now where was I?"

"Ryan gave you space." Molly reminded her, making a fresh pot of coffee. "Then you got a phone call and now there's a woman in a coma in your spare room. Are you sure not telling anyone is a good idea?"

"For now." Marisol sighed. "I just … I'm worried about him. Knowing the way MDPD works, especially people higher up, the second people know, it'll be all over the news and if we lose her again…" She shook her head. "That reminds me; you have somewhere to stay, right? I mean, I was going to offer you our spare room, but…"

Molly laughed. "I've still got my apartment, don't worry. I bought it, not rented it."

"Oh good." Marisol sighed in relief. "Our couch isn't very comfortable."

"How else would you keep Ryan in line?" Molly asked, straight-faced.

Marisol laughed. "True. Very true."

"Anyway, so you were saying …" Molly prompted.

"Yeah." Marisol cleared her throat. "It got to the point where every shotgun victim, every young girl … they all took me back to Barcelona."

"Did you tell anyone?" Molly asked curiously, handing her the mug.

"Thanks." Marisol took a sip. "No. Well, I had to explain a little bit to Calleigh, because I just freaked out one day. I didn't want to be treated differently. They did that back home; every case that came in, I could see them looking at me, trying to figure out if I could handle it or not."

"I can understand that." Molly told her softly.

Marisol shrugged. "Sooner or later, the time came. They wanted me back for the whole trial, not just my testimony. We had to adjourn court half way through; I just couldn't do it. It was like being there all over again. I could see their parents…" She broke off, trying to stop the tears from falling again. "On the second day…"

"I remember being scared that whoever was out there would hear it." Marisol's voice faltered once more and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Samuel Hernandez smirk at her.

Her mouth dried in fear. What if he didn't get convicted? What if he came after her? What if he found her? What then?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the courtroom door opening quietly. Automatically, she glanced over and her heart jumped a little.

Detective Ryan Wolfe was standing in front of the newly-closed door, gazing at her with a mixture of pride and adoration.

Molly raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding."

"Yeah, apparently, Horatio saying "Go home and get some sleep" translates into "Go home and catch a flight to Spain."" Marisol laughed.

Molly laughed as well, the last of the haunted expression that had overtaken her at the news about Carlos vanishing in a second. "That's my boy! Did he help?"

"More than he should have." Marisol admitted. "For the first time, I looked that … that … monster in the eye and carried on speaking. Told him I knew it was him."

"Atta girl." Molly grinned. "Did they…?"

"Life." Marisol confirmed. "And afterwards, I had to deal with Ryan when he hadn't slept for a week."

"Never an easy thing." Molly sympathized. "He pulled a couple of shifts like that when I was working there. I had to carry him home."

"Well, I got the cabbie to give me a hand." Marisol shrugged. "We got back to Miami, carried on as we'd always done, then he invited me round for dinner. We had a few drinks, played some pool and…"

"There's no way you're gonna get this shot too, Latina." Ryan stated as she lined up for it.

Marisol smirked. "A Benjamin says I do."

Ryan laughed. "You're on!"

Seconds later, Marisol straightened up, the ball falling into the hole with a soft thud. "You owe me $100."

"Er … you know what?" Ryan coughed. "You're … you're gonna have to wait till payday."

"No." Marisol shook her head. "You either pay me now … or you come up with something better."

Belatedly, she realized that the distance between them had closed considerably and Ryan didn't hesitate to close the gap between them. A cloud of bliss enveloped her mind as she tugged his shirt over his head, leaving behind only the question as to why this hadn't happened earlier…

Marisol awoke the next morning, his arm still firmly around her waist, as if reluctant to release her. She moved her head slightly so it was resting on his chest instead of his shoulder and let herself drift off to sleep again. After what felt like only a few seconds, she felt him poke her nose softly, causing her eyes to flutter open and a smile to creep across her face. "Hey. What time is it?"

"Early." He murmured.

"Mmm." Marisol stretched sleepily and snuggled closer to him. "I have to be at work at nine. You're lucky; you got a later shift."

"Well, go back to sleep." Ryan told her. "I'll wake you up."

Marisol hesitated for a second, and then decided to feel out what exactly happened last night. "I dreamt that … I woke up and you were gone … you left a note."

"Where would I go?" Ryan responded. "This is my place."

For a second, her heart constricted, but then she heard the underlying humor in his voice and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "I was hoping for a better answer."

The grin on his face softened. "I'm just kidding. I'm glad this happened." He pressed a kiss to her forehead in a tender gesture that surprised her, even after last night.

She smiled and kissed his chest, the closest part of him that she could reach without lifting her head. "Me too." Then she drifted back into a blissful sleep, lulled by his fingers rhythmically running through her hair.

"When I woke up, he'd taken my shift." Marisol shook her head, a frown appearing on her face.

"That was uncharacteristically sweet of him." Molly stated bluntly. "He hates missing lie-ins."

"Well, I wish he hadn't." Marisol sighed. "That morning, MDPD seized 900 kg of coke from an Irish gang; when Ryan reached the scene to help Aaron process, he ended up in a hostage situation."

"Was he okay?" Molly asked quietly.

"Couple of broken fingers, cracked rib, and a lot of bruising." Marisol frowned. "I just wish he hadn't taken my shift."

Molly smiled knowingly. "Did you tell him that?"

Marisol nodded, her own smile appearing. "He told me that he'd go through it a hundred times more if it meant that I was safe."

"And you started dating." Molly concluded with a smirk. "So how did he propose?"

Marisol's smile slipped slightly. "Well, it's not quite as simple as that. We'd been together about five months, when … Riley Hendricks was killed by a stray bullet."

Molly frowned. "I know that name." Her eyes widened. "Wait a minute; not that little boy who lived down the hall from Ryan? That must have…"

"It did." Marisol sighed heavily. "Ryan had taken him to get his bike blessed that morning; Riley rode ahead, there was a gunshot, neither of them realized he'd been hurt and Ryan told him to go straight home, because the woman from the bodega that had been robbed was hysterical. Riley got round the corner and … Ryan blamed himself."

"When is he going to learn?!" Molly groaned. "He pushed you away, didn't he?"

"Worse than that." Marisol stood up. "We should get Nat into something more than a sheet."

Molly followed her into the spare room, not pushing her to explain.

Marisol rooted in the drawers, pulling out some underwear, tracksuit pants and a shirt. "I knew something was wrong when he forgot my birthday."

"I wouldn't take that personally." Molly told her. "He's terrible with dates; always had been. One year, he forgot his own birthday."

Marisol smiled weakly. "I know he was dealing with a lot, but I was mad at him … after a week or so, I decided that I was being ridiculous. So I went over, early, before my shift to apologize for making such a big deal about it. Before I could knock on the door … the walls are pretty thin … I could hear him … with another woman."

Molly sucked in her breath. "You want me to kill him for you?"

"No." Marisol sighed. "I knew why … back in Spain, after it happened … I was the 'Girl-Who-Survived'. There's always one girl in every class that the boys are making bets over – who'll get her into bed first, who'll get her into bed quickest … you know what I mean. I never stopped them; I didn't feel anything. He was the first time I did."

Molly shook her head. "Tell me he told you."

"No. He just kept pushing me away." Marisol brushed a strand of hair from her face. "After that, I just … I stopped trying. Then one evening, I went for a rain-walk and my phone rang … he asked me to come over … I told him I had to go, but…"

People rushing past her were staring at her; she must have looked ridiculous, walking in the pouring rain with nothing more than a thin hoody and no umbrella, but the subway was closed and she wasn't stupid enough to get a taxi after everything that had happened.

Somehow she found herself standing outside Ryan's apartment building and made a split-second decision. Before she had a chance to buzz him, one of his neighbors came out and held the door for her with a smile. She thanked him and made her way up the stairs to Ryan's apartment, knocking on the door before she had time to talk herself out of it.

The door opened, she met his eyes, seeing the evident surprise, and hurt shot through her. Of course his invitation had been empty. She mumbled an apology and turned to leave, but he caught her arm.

"No! Marisol, we need to talk."

She flinched at the use of her real name, but followed him inside and joined him on the couch.

"Marisol…"

"Latina." Marisol corrected. "You've always called me that, Ryan; it doesn't feel right when you don't."

The smile he gave her could have melted a heart of ice. "Latina, I'm sorry. For everything. But before I apologize for everything you know about, I gotta tell you…"

"I know." Marisol interrupted. "About you and Ella. I know."

Ryan gaped at her for a few seconds. "Latina … I never meant to hurt you…"

"I know." Marisol repeated. "Believe me, Ryan, I know. I did the same thing back in Spain after … they died. I just wish you could have come to me. I would've understood."

Ryan sighed. "Believe me, Latina, if I could turn back time, I would. But I meant what I said. I miss you. And … I didn't forget your birthday. I mean, I did, but only on that day. Wait there."

Marisol closed her mouth, biting back the argument that he had forgotten, and he disappeared into his bedroom, reappearing with a small box. "Happy Birthday."

Marisol rolled her eyes, deciding not to mention that he was a good few months overdue, because she knew he knew already. Opening the box, she glanced up at him, puzzled, at the sight of a note.

"Go on." Ryan prompted.

Marisol pulled the note out and read it aloud. "Latina, I was going to get you one of those stereotypical birthday gifts, but I remember you telling me that you always found those predictable and meaningless. So I decided to do this instead. Knowing me, I'll have forgotten this on your birthday, but it'll wind up on your desk at some point; better late than never, right? Just ask to see my right arm next time you see me. Happy Birthday. Ryan." She looked up again. "Right arm?"

"Marisol, how many tattoos do I have?" Ryan asked in response.

"Two." Marisol answered without hesitation. "One on your chest; one on your arm. Your left arm." She remembered the first time she'd noticed them.

On his chest, an angel inscribed with two dates and, as they lay in bed together, she had asked about it; he had told her it was his maternal grandmother and her dates of birth and death.

On his arm, there was a circlet of thorns. She had traced a circle round it with her finger and asked about it; he had stiffened and told her it was a story for another time.

As if reading her mind, Ryan rolled up his left sleeve, revealing it. "It was the Harper Wood symbol but without the name. I got it when I was a kid, when I wanted to be just like Ian; couldn't wait to get the real one. I never got it removed, because it reminds me of the mistake I nearly made. My past will always be a part of me, Latina, and that reminds me of that. But my future is more important. And you know I'm right handed." He switched to his other arm, rolling the sleeve up to reveal the inked words: My Latina.

Marisol stared at it for a few seconds. "That may be the most amazing thing any guy has ever done for me."

"I've been a prick." Ryan stated firmly. "I know I have. I've never been able to deal with commitment and … I couldn't deal with both things at the same time. But the guy who did this made a pretty astute observation."

"Astute?" Marisol repeated. "Alright. And what was that?"

"That I must really care about you." Ryan told her. "And I told him that I did; that you're the most important person in my life. And I realized something. I realized … I love you. I love you so damn much, Marisol, and yes I'm using your real name for this. I completely understand if you never want to see me again … although we work together so that'll be difficult … I've done nothing but hurt you and I'm sorry; it was the last thing I wanted to do…"

"Ryan." Marisol sighed, cupping his face. "Shut up. I told you that I've fallen in love with you and I meant that. But I also told you that I wanted to let that go. I never want that. So if this is going to happen, I need to know. Is this it?"

Ryan pressed a kiss to her lips. "This is it, Latina. I promise."

"And then he proposed?" Molly guessed.

Marisol laughed. "No. No, but we … we worked things out."

Molly smiled, helping her sit Nat up so they could slip the shirt onto her, and something suddenly occurred to her. "Speaking of working things out, how did you realize the body in the car wasn't me?"

"Well, it was really because I didn't go with the others to their 'farewell gathering." Marisol replied. "They all went out for drinks, talk about how much they'd miss you and so on. I felt it would be a bit weird if I went; we'd never met. So I told them I'd catch up with them later and headed down to autopsy to help Tom finish up a few things. We were chatting and then he asked me…"

"So what made you become a CSI in the first place?"

Marisol froze. She hadn't told anyone in Miami about her past and she wasn't sure she could start now.

Tom must have seen the turmoil on her face. "I was always rather captivated by the way the human body worked myself. If it's a personal reason, Marisol, I won't be offended if you don't tell me."

"I survived a crime." Marisol told him quietly. "I don't really like talking about it. So far, no one has been convicted of it and I swore I wouldn't let that happen again. So I started looking into ways I could help. CSI seemed … interesting. Oddly enough, until that day, I had a crippling fear of blood."

She laughed, but she was the only one; Tom was staring at the morgue drawer where Molly's body was being kept.

"You know," he said slowly, "Ryan is scared of dentists."

"Oh?" Marisol asked.

"I remember one day, he hid in autopsy for three hours, because Molly had an appointment."

"Why would Molly having an appointment cause him to hide?" Marisol frowned.

Tom replaced his glasses and pulled out Molly's file. "Because she was also not too keen on dentists; she wasn't as bad, but she didn't like it all the same. On this particular day, she was having her wisdom teeth removed and had decided that Ryan was going to accompany her … to 'hold her hand' so to speak."

"I see…" Marisol thought for a second. "No offence, but what does this have to do with anything?"

Tom pulled out an x-ray and held it up. "Our Vic from the car has all four wisdom teeth."

Marisol's eyes widened. "She's not Molly."

"Ryan was so relieved when we told him." Marisol finished. "I … I gotta ask – I don't expect Ryan to come clean completely – did you two ever…?"

Molly laughed. "God, no! We tried it. Once. We'd have been crazy not to. We both had similar backgrounds, we knew all the slang, and we could finish each other's thoughts and sentences. And I knew I loved him; on paper, we were the perfect couple. We went out for dinner, he paid, walked me home, kissed me goodnight … and then we both collapsed in hysterical laughter. I realized that I loved him; I just wasn't in love with him. We spent the rest of the night talking it out; it was the most embarrassing date I've ever been on. But I think if we hadn't tried it, we'd have always been stuck in that horrible 'tension place'."

"He loves you." Marisol told her, her eyes fixed on Nat's face. "I always knew that. And then when we had Annabelle, he told me that he wished his sister was here as well. I was a little confused; I was under the impression that he only had a brother. Then he told me that you were his sister, blood or no blood."

Molly straightened the cover on the bed, wiping away a stray tear that escaped her. "God, look at the two of us. We're acting like two emotional teenagers."

The sombre mood broken, Marisol giggled and gestured to the living room. "Come on. We'll leave her in peace. Hopefully it won't be long until she wakes up."

Chapter 3

When her mother's face reappeared over her, Annabelle smiled and giggled, drawing smiles from the two women as well.

Marisol lifted her daughter out of the playpen and settled on the couch with her in her lap, grabbing Annabelle's favorite toy – a plush rabbit – from the side as she did so.

Molly sat down as well, glancing back at the spare room. "How long's she been with MDPD?"

"She joined about … three years ago." Marisol guessed. "Around that time."

"Aaron said she was Cardoza's partner." Molly prompted.

Marisol nodded. "They've been partners for about two and a half years, but it was more than a year before they were on the same case together. They just make an amazing team; I wouldn't be surprised if they could read each other's minds, but they were … careful."

"Careful?" Molly frowned. "Why?"

"He's a first grade homicide detective." Marisol explained. "She's only a third grade. Even back then, rumors were flying about them; their desks faced each other, they used each other as soundboards when they had a particularly difficult case, if one got coffee, they'd get the other person coffee too … all harmless, if they were both guys, but they weren't. I heard the phrase 'sleeping her way up the ranks' more than once. Nearly punched the people saying it."

"Is she a good detective?" Molly asked.

"She was one of the best." Marisol stated. "I guess it was only a matter of time before she and Cardoza hooked up; it was getting unbearable to be in the same room as both of them."

Molly nodded. "How long have they been together?"

"I don't know, to tell you the truth." Marisol picked up the rabbit where Annabelle dropped it. "I've known about it for about seven months, but they were too comfortable together for it to have been a new thing. Less than a year, I think." She glanced at the door. "After she flat-lined, the doctors removed the machines and let us in…

Everyone waited, wanting to let Jesse go in first, but he didn't let go of Marisol's hand from where she'd taken his what felt like hours earlier. So she stood with him, leaving Annabelle with her father, and they made their way to the hospital room, where Nat lay, pale and unmoving, as beautiful in death as she had been in life.

At the door, Jesse released her hand and she stayed where she was, watching him walk slowly towards the hospital bed.

When he reached her side, he brushed her hair from her eyes and bent to press a kiss against her cold lips. "I love you, Nat."

His words echoed through the silent room and Marisol covered her mouth with her hand to stop her sobs escaping, even as her shoulders begin to shake.

"I know I never said it." Jesse continued. "And I should have done. But I do. And I'll never stop. You hear me, Nat? I will never stop loving you."

Seeing tears start to fall from his eyes, Marisol let her own fall and knelt beside him, pulling him into a hug.

"Why her, Mari?" Jesse asked quietly. "Why did they have to take her? She wasn't even supposed to be there; she's supposed to be in Jersey with her family. Why?"

Marisol didn't answer, knowing that he wasn't expecting one.

His eyes never left his girlfriend's face. "I need her. I don't think I can do this without her."

"Jesse." Ryan said quietly from the doorway. "We've got a location on the kidnappers."

Jesse's face set. He released Marisol and kissed Nat's forehead. "I'm going to get the son-of-a-bitch who did this to you, Nat."

"Cardoza!" Marisol reached out and caught his arm as he stood. "Try not to do anything stupid, alright? She wouldn't want you to."

"You'll stay with her, won't you, Marisol?" Jesse asked, clearly avoiding the subject. "I don't want her to be alone."

Marisol smiled softly. "I'll stay with her until Tom comes. I promise. Ryan, I'll take Annabelle." She stood to take the baby, lowering her voice a little. "Keep an eye on him."

"You got it, Latina." Ryan kissed her forehead and she sat down, Annabelle alert on her lap.

The little girl's eyes lit up and she reached out, one tiny hand seizing Nat's finger.

Marisol choked back another flood of tears. "Oh, Annabelle … Auntie Nat isn't going to wake up, sweetie."

Jesse followed Ryan out of the room, but stopped in the doorway, turning back to gaze at his fallen partner. "Goodbye, Natalia …"

"All six were killed resisting arrest." Marisol concluded. "Or, at least, that's the official story. I wouldn't be surprised if Jesse realized which one shot her and put a bullet through his head on purpose."

"Do you think that was when her heart restarted?" Molly asked. "I mean, you hear about these 'outer-body experiences' people claim to have. Maybe she heard him and fought to come back."

"Well, it's Christmas in a few weeks." Marisol glanced out the window. "It could have been a miracle. Who knows? Maybe we'll get snow too."

For a few seconds, the two women sank into quiet reflection, and then Annabelle, who had clearly realized something was wrong, threw her rabbit on the floor again.

This time, it was Molly who ducked to pick it up, handing it back to the baby. "So you and Ryan…"

Marisol smiled. "Yeah. We got back together. Couple of months later, I realized that I was pregnant."

"Wow." Molly murmured. "What did you do?"

"Panicked." Marisol admitted. "Ryan and I were alright, but … we hadn't been the same. I went to an OB and had it confirmed. Of course, Ryan realized soon enough that there was something wrong. Apparently, our Vic had a doctor's card on her and he and Call were at the clinic when I went in. He confronted me in the locker room later and I told him."

"What did he say?" Molly asked.

"'are you sure?'" Marisol remembered with a small laugh. "I told him that I wasn't expecting anything from him and dived back into the case before he could argue."

"Jumped before you were pushed." Molly summarized. "I take it he didn't agree."

Marisol shook her head, her smile growing. "I got home that evening to find him waiting outside, insisting we needed to talk…"

Marisol sighed, not wanting to hear it said out loud. "Fine. Come in." She shut the door quietly behind them and made her way over to the kitchen, pulling out the takeaway menu she kept in the drawer.

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked.

"Ordering take-out." Marisol answered bluntly. "What else?"

"Not in your condition, you're not." Ryan stated, leading her over to the couch. "Do you realize how bad that stuff is for babies? You sit down; I'll make us dinner."

Marisol rolled her eyes. "Ryan, I've already told you; I'm not expecting anything…"

"Thing is, Latina, you are." Ryan disagreed. "You're expecting a baby. My baby. And you're expecting me to walk away from our kid. You know I love you, Marisol, I tell you daily. Why do you doubt me all of a sudden?"

"I don't doubt you love me." Marisol insisted. "I just … I wasn't planning this, Ryan. I wasn't planning on becoming a mother, not now, and I know you weren't planning on becoming a father."

"I wasn't planning on becoming a CSI either, Latina." Ryan reminded her. "I was planning on playing baseball. I wasn't planning on falling in love. But I did both of those things and they turned out to be the best things I've ever done." He took her hands. "Maybe we weren't planning on having a baby, but we are now. And I'm not gonna lie to you, Latina; I'm scared. But I'm not going anywhere."

Molly smiled. "Good. If he'd reacted any other way, I'd have had to hurt him. Now tell me he asked you to marry him, or I might have to anyway."

"He did." Marisol nodded. "And I said no."

"You…" Molly raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Marisol sighed. "Because I wanted him to marry me because he loved me, not because I was pregnant. I'd just rather walk down the aisle than be pushed." She bounced Annabelle slightly, causing the child to giggle. "He was amazing though. Talked to my stomach every day, read the baby comics. Although he was convinced we'd have a boy. When I was about seven months along, I decided to visit my parents, so my mom could see me pregnant." She laughed. "I told Ryan that if I had a girl, I was really looking forward to that. And he said, "If this is a girl, no guy's getting close enough to her to get her pregnant.""

Molly laughed. "Good trip?"

"Yeah, it was great." Marisol smiled. "But, before I left, Ryan took me into town, told me we were meeting a couple of friends. We ended up at City Hall, outside the registry office. And he said to me…"

"I am tired of being afraid, alright? You and me? We make sense, okay? You're everything I've always wanted. I wanna be with you. And I can be the guy that you want me to be. I know I can; I am that guy."

Marisol smiled shakily. "You know you are."

"Then let's walk through that door together. Let's do it; let's take that leap."

"And you did." Molly concluded with a grin. "Did you have Annabelle here or in Spain?"

"Here." Marisol answered. "I landed in Miami, went to the lab and went straight to the hospital. Eight hours of labor, one beautiful girl. Ryan dotes on her. Took her to the park every other day."

Her use of the past tense, combined with the wistful tone her voice had taken on, caused Molly to frown. "Did something happen?"

Marisol sighed. "It was about a month ago, after the shooting. We thought Nat was dead; we went out to … say goodbye, even if the funeral wouldn't be for a while…"

"Okay, I'll try not to cause that many tears." Calleigh stood up. "Would you all raise your glasses? Natalia Boa Vista was one of those rare people who touched each of our lives, who reaffirmed your faith in humanity. She was a great homicide detective and a wonderful friend, always there and willing to do whatever it took to see that justice was served."

Marisol glanced towards Cardoza, who was avoiding everyone's gaze, and reached over to squeeze his hand. He didn't look at her, but squeezed back in silent thanks.

"And I know…" Calleigh's voice choked to a halt and she swallowed hard. "I know that Nat is watching over us and will protect us, just as she always has done."

Before anything else could be said, the windows shattered inwards with a round of bullets and screams erupted around them.

Ryan seized her and forced her to the floor, landing heavily on top of her. Marisol closed her eyes tightly and focused on thinking about her daughter in an attempt to stay calm

Finally, the bullets stopped and silence fell upon the bar as reality sank in. Then the cries started; people calling for friends and family, casualties calling for help.

Ryan rolled to the side, allowing Marisol to sit up; she flinched as small shards of glass cut into her hands.

"I can't feel my legs." Ryan murmured.

Marisol focused on her husband. "Ryan?"

"Marisol, I can't move." Ryan lifted his hand and they both saw that it was drenched in his blood. "I can't feel my legs."

"No…" Marisol caught his hand and cupped his face. "Baby, you're okay. You're gonna be fine."

Ryan met her eyes and she could see the barely veiled fear in them. "Mari, I can't feel my legs."

"Horatio!" Marisol called over her shoulder. "You're alright, Ryan; just think about Annabelle. Just keep focusing on Annabelle. Horatio!"

"He's been in a wheelchair ever since." Marisol concluded shakily. "In fact, he's only just regained feeling in his legs and it happened a month ago. Doctors told him that there's a ten percent chance of recovery. He told me it was sixty."

"He just didn't want to scare you." Molly guessed, moving so she could wrap an arm around Marisol's shoulders. "He's like that."

"I've told him he's got to be more optimistic." Marisol leaned into her embrace, tightening her hold on Annabelle as she did. "Or I'll kick his butt."

"I'll help you." Molly promised. "He'll pull through. I mean, it's Ryan."

"I know, right?" Marisol agreed. "He's too stubborn to do anything else." She reached out with her spare arm and grabbed the phone as it started to ring. "Wolfe residence."

"Marisol, its Horatio. Aaron said he ran into Molly there; is she still with you?"

"Er, yeah, she is." Marisol answered, glancing at her. "Do you wanna talk to her?"

"Please."

"It's Horatio." Marisol handed her the phone as Annabelle began fussing. "And this little one needs changing; excuse me." She stood up, taking her daughter into the nursery.

Although she chatted to Annabelle as she always did while changing her, Marisol's mind was in the living room. What did Horatio want to talk to Molly about?

"Guess what?" Molly announced from the doorway.

Marisol pulled Annabelle's dress down and picked her up. "Pass."

"Horatio just offered me a job!" Molly told her.

"Wow. Congratulations." Marisol pushed the changing table away. "I wonder how he pulled that. At the beginning of the year, we had to fight to save Aaron's job because of budget cuts."

"Apparently, MDPD just got a boatload of extra funding." Molly shrugged. "He wants me to come in, so he can tell the rest of the team. I guess he doesn't know about Boa Vista yet."

Marisol nodded absently. "I guess not. Alright, well, you head in; I'm gonna contact Nat's family and let them know."

"Ryan?" Calleigh stuck her head through the door of his office. "What are you doing here? Horatio paged everyone to his office."

"Yeah, so we can meet the new girl." Ryan rolled his eyes. "No thanks."

Calleigh sighed. "Come on, Ryan! You weren't this obstinate when Marisol joined."

"That's because Marisol was only taking my best friend's job." Ryan reminded her. "I refuse to stand there and meet the woman who's taking my wife's job."

"She's not taking Marisol's job." Calleigh sighed. "She's just a new CSI."

"Besides, even if I was, it would only be fair." A familiar voice pointed out. "She did take mine."

Calleigh spun on her heel to see Molly grinning at her. "Molly!"

Molly accepted her hug. "I know Horatio wants me in his office, but I know Wolfe too well." She glanced over at Ryan, who was still staring at her in shock. "Don't get up."

"Oh, very funny, Sloan." Ryan carefully maneuvered his chair out from under his desk and over to her. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Chasing shadows." Molly leant down to give him a hug. "Apparently, Andrew Carlos's in jail."

"Yeah, we thought…" Ryan began.

"I know what you thought." Molly cut him off. "I just spent the morning with your wife. Annabelle, by the way, is the most adorable baby I've ever encountered."

"I thought you weren't a baby person." Calleigh commented, as the three made their way to Horatio's office.

"Well, I'm not really." Molly admitted. "But Annabelle may have converted me. I gotta bone to pick with you later, Wolfe."

"I thought you might." Ryan groaned. "Can't you at least wait until I'm outta this chair?"

"We'd be here forever." Molly grinned, pushing open the door to Horatio's office.

"Look, I know you're not happy, but Stetler insists we hire another CSI!" Horatio was saying. "I promise you that I've done everything to make this transition as smooth as possible."

"We've always run on this team." Delko reminded him. "Even when Molly left we kept the balance."

"It's rude to talk about people behind their backs." Molly stated.

Delko gaped at her for a second, before embracing her tightly. "Molly!" He turned to Horatio accusingly. "This is the new CSI?"

"No one said anything about a new CSI." Horatio told him. "Just another one. It's good to have you back, Molly."

"Thanks, Horatio." Molly finally allowed herself a genuine smile as she glanced around the familiar office. "It's good to be back."

Chapter 4

It took less than an hour after her phone call for the knocking to start at the door; Marisol shifted Annabelle on to her hip and answered, this time knowing who it was. "Mr. and Mrs. Boa Vista, thank you for coming. Please come in."

The month before, at the hospital, Nat's father had told them all to call him Jason, or Mr. Boa Vista, if that felt too awkward, citing that 'Detective Sergeant Boa Vista' was too much of a mouthful to be used regularly, especially since he was now retired.

"Well, when you told us it was about Natalia, we couldn't wait." Hannah Boa Vista told her quietly, her eyes lingering on Annabelle. "You didn't mention you had a child, Detective Santiago."

"Marisol." She corrected, closing the door behind them. "This is Annabelle; she's three months old. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"

"No, thank you." Jason declined politely. "So what's this about, Detective? Is this about the autopsy? Why didn't the ME call us in to the crime lab?"

Marisol sighed. "It's a little more complicated than that, sir. When Dr. Erickson went to begin, he made several preliminary observations that negated any need for an autopsy." She took a deep breath. "Natalia's still alive. She's in the spare room at the moment. I thought about taking her to a hospital, but she survived a month in an autopsy drawer with no trouble and they always treat coma patients like part of the furniture…"

"Marisol." Hannah interrupted shakily. "I agree with you. Can we see her?"

"Yes, of course." Marisol opened the door to the spare room and stood back to let them in. Jason stayed rooted to the spot, but his wife slipped past her and hurried to Nat's side.

"You dressed her." Hannah observed, stroking her daughter's hair.

"I always found hospital gowns a little undignified." Marisol shrugged. "And I know Nat hates them."

"Jason…" Hannah pressed her fingers against Nat's wrist. "She's right. Natie's alive."

Now Nat's father moved, feeling her pulse for himself, before kissing her forehead. Marisol took Annabelle into the kitchen, giving the couple their privacy.

"Alive?" Horatio repeated.

Tom nodded. "That's right."

Horatio looked at Molly. "Marisol told you?"

"I looked after Annabelle while she came in." Molly answered. "She should be telling Detective Boa Vista's parents right around now."

Ryan shook his head. "And she's in our spare room?"

Molly sighed. "Yes, Ryan, she's in your spare room. You can keep asking; the answer's not gonna change."

The silence that followed was broken only by Horatio's ring-tone. "Caine. Right." He hung up and opened a drawer, pulling out a badge and gun. "Sorry to throw you in the deep end, Molly, but there's a DOA in Time Square. Aaron's going with you."

"Horatio…" Ryan began.

"No, Ryan." Horatio cut him off. "With the snow scheduled, we need to process as quickly as possible. I'm sorry."

Molly patted his shoulder as she left, fastening her new badge onto her belt and slipping the gun into her holster. "Sorry, Wolfe." She made her way down to Trace, the familiar route popping into her head as she walked. As she entered, almost every head turned to look at her, some unfamiliar and curious, others smiling in welcome. "Hey, Aaron!"

"Yeah!" The man in question appeared above a line of computers.

"Grab your kit." Molly called. "We got a DOA."

"Anything I need to know before we get there?"

Molly glanced at her companion. "Like what?"

Aaron shrugged. "Well, Marisol prefers me to stay quiet while she's trying to figure something out. Ryan would rather use me as a sound-board. Horatio doesn't like me disagreeing with him, but Calleigh likes the challenge. I'm just here to process."

Molly smiled at him; recognize the shy stutter in his voice from her very first case. Of course, she'd had Ryan busting her balls on top of the nerves. "You're here as a CSI, Aaron. No badge doesn't change that. If you have a theory, tell me, whatever I might have said. Oh, and don't stare at my ass while I'm processing. That happens way too often and it's disrespectful."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Molly." She corrected. "Horatio doesn't like sir; I don't like ma'am, got it?"

Aaron nodded. "Got it."

"So how long have you been at the crime lab?" Molly asked curiously, pulling up at the scene.

"I joined about the same time as Marisol." Aaron answered, grabbing the kit from the back of the car. "So I've been … Cardoza?"

"Excuse me?" Molly followed his gaze and recognized the dark hair and build of the detective talking to witnesses. "Marisol said he was on compassionate leave."

"He was." Aaron shrugged. "Guess he's pulled himself back."

"That's the Cardoza I know." Molly ducked under the crime scene tape, thanking the uniformed officer who lifted it for them, someone she didn't recognize, but, then again, she'd never really talked to the uniforms.

"Hey, Cardoza!" Aaron called. "Look whose back!"

Jesse looked up and his face broke into a smile. "Molly Sloan! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Molly set her kit down and hugged him. "Yeah, well, I was getting bored without you lot."

"Cardoza, this is a crime scene!" Another voice barked. "You can't just let civilians in, whether you know them or not!"

Jesse rolled his eyes. "This is Detective Jensen, just transferred over from Jersey PD. Jensen, this is Detective Molly Sloan and Aaron Michaels; they're here to process the scene. They look like tourists to you?"

Jensen turned out to a man about ten years older than them, who ran a critical eye over the two, lingering on Molly slightly longer than she was comfortable with. "Alright, but make it quick."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "How long have you worked in homicide, Detective?"

"Just moved over." Jensen answered stiffly. "Why?"

"I thought so." Molly pulled on her gloves. "Otherwise you'd know that it is our observations that will nail the guy that did this. We will take as long as we need. You will secure the perimeter and stop looking at me as though I'm a piece of meat. Got it?"

"You heard her, Jensen." Jesse stated. "And, for the record, I'm still the higher officer here. Let them do their jobs."

"Yes, sir."

"Thanks Cardoza." Molly gestured to the body. "Do we know who this is?"

"So far, he's still a John Doe." Jesse answered. "Anonymous 911 call, but that don't mean much. A lot of people come to South Beach because they can blend into the crowd. No wallet, no ID."

"Maybe he's one of them." Molly suggested, taking a picture of the body. "Or it could have been a robbery. Find anything, Aaron?"

"Looks like the Vic bled out." Aaron bagged a swab. "Where'd you get the gun, Cardoza? I thought Marisol still had yours."

"She does." Jesse shrugged. "I have another spare."

"She's gonna kill you." Aaron stated matter-of-factly. "The bloods too spread out to be from one wound; I don't think it was a robbery, Molly."

Molly knelt beside him and they rolled the victim over. She pulled a face at the multiple wounds in the man's chest. "No, definitely not. This was personal." She glanced up at Cardoza and groaned at the expression on his face. "You know him. Don't you?"

"I've seen him before." Jesse answered quietly. "He's a member of a hurling team that plays over in what used to be Montiquan tribal ground."

"Amos Delaware." Aaron nodded. "It was a case about six months ago." He explained to Molly when she gave him a questioning look. "Native American hit by a stray bullet on a speeding train, only for us to find out that he was already dead."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "Lebrun James couldn't make that shot."

Jesse chuckled weakly. "That's what Ryan said. I missed you two doing that."

"What? Reading each other's minds or finishing each other's sentences?" Molly straightened up. "I kinda missed it too."

The silver sedan pulled into the parking lot next to the playing field and came to a stop, causing the two teams to stop playing and look over at them.

"You alright, Cardoza?" Molly asked quietly.

Jesse's hands tightened on the steering wheel momentarily, then relaxed. "Yeah. I'm fine. C'mon."

Molly grabbed the photo and got out of the car, only to come face to face with one of the players. "Yes?"

"You're interrupting' a game." He told her. "Again." He added, glancing at Cardoza. "New partner, detective?"

All at once, Molly realized what was bothering Cardoza; the last time he had been here, it had been Natalia Boa Vista in the passenger seat.

"This is Detective Sloan, with Crime Scene." Jesse waved to her, ignoring the question. "We just need to talk to you."

Molly held up a photo of the Vic. "You know this guy?"

Wexford paled. "Yeah, that's Kevin. My brother. What happened to him?"

Molly sighed; she hated this part. "I'm afraid your brother was found murdered this morning, Mr. Wexford."

"Game's over, lads." Wexford stated, not taking his eyes off her face.

Molly waited for the teams to disperse, several members clapping him on the back as they passed. "Was your brother a member of the team?"

"Yeah, he was late this morning so we started without him." Wexford answered.

Anyone else might have thought he seemed very calm about his brother's death, but both detectives could hear the tell-tale waver in his voice.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Jesse asked.

"Last night … around ten. I turned in early because of practice this morning … he said he'd stay up."

"You live together?" Molly guessed. "Did he say he was going out at all?"

"Yeah, he said he was meeting someone." Wexford shrugged. "Didn't say who."

"Do you know if he had a girlfriend?" Molly pressed.

"Yeah. Mandy something; I don't know her last name." Wexford frowned. "Blonde hair, nice legs. She gave him a lift to practice once."

"Did you see the car?" Jesse asked immediately.

"Red. Merc, I think."

"License number?" Molly prompted.

"I think there was a 7. I dunno; I don't tend to check license numbers. Who does?" Wexford responded shortly.

Molly didn't call him on his attitude. "Do you remember anything else about her?"

"No. Sorry." Wexford looked from one to the other. "You think she's involved?"

"At this stage, I can't tell." Molly answered carefully. "But finding out who your brother was with before his death will help us work out what happened to him. Did your brother visit South Beach often?"

"No." Wexford shook his head. "He hated it there; too many crowds. Why?"

"That's where he was found." Jesse explained. "Could he have been meeting someone?"

"I don't know. Listen, I have to get hold of my folks. Tell them what happened. Can I go?"

"Sure." Jesse turned to Molly as the kid headed off. "What do you think?"

"Definitely grieving." Molly stated. "He doesn't know anything, Cardoza."

"Glad we're on the same page." Jesse got back in the car. "Back to the drawing board."

Molly sighed and followed his lead. "Jesse, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're lying through your teeth, Cardoza." Molly disagreed. "Talk to me."

"She spoke fluent Spanish."

Molly frowned. "Who? Boa Vista?"

Jesse nodded with a fond smile. "It took me like four months to get her to tell me her first name. And we'd been dating for at least six before I found out she was Brazilian."

"You found out this case?" Molly guessed, deciding not to comment on the earlier unlikelihood of one of his relationships lasting longer than six weeks, let alone six months.

"Yeah." Jesse sighed. "She's gone, Molly. I came back to work because I thought it'd take my mind off her; keep me busy. But her desk's empty. I sit doing paperwork and I can still hear her laugh … smell her hair. And then I look up and she's gone. And I know she's never coming back."

Molly didn't say anything, reaching across to squeeze his hand comfortingly, feeling guiltier by the second. The silence was broken by her cell-phone ringing and she answered automatically. "Sloan."

"Molly, its Aaron. Marisol just called."

Marisol could see through the kitchen window that the sky was greyer than usual and smiled to herself. Maybe she was right about a white Christmas.

After an hour, Nat's parents had left, thanking her for looking after their daughter and asking her to call them if anything changed. She, of course, had agreed and gone back to her day off, although now in a much better mood than she had woken up in.

Annabelle had fallen asleep and Marisol put her down in the nursery, before settling down on the couch with a book; something she hadn't done for a long time. She didn't know how long it was before her phone rang, but the apartment had gotten darker and it was that which led her to look out of the window and wonder about a white Christmas.

Grabbing her cell phone from the side table, she glanced at the screen before answering, her smile widening. "Hey babe."

"Hey, how's Nat?"

"Still out." Marisol let her eyes wander to the spare room. "Sorry for not saying anything earlier."

"Don't worry about it, Latina. Molly said she'd met you."

Marisol could hear the unspoken question. "Yeah, we had a nice chat."

"Oh yeah? Bout what?"

"Life, the universe and everything." Marisol smirked.

"42." Ryan responded promptly. "Seriously, Mari, what did you tell her?"

"Everything." Marisol stated, all humor gone from her voice. "She'd have found out sooner or later, Ryan."

"I know." Ryan groaned. "I was just hoping it'd be later rather than sooner."

"Look at the bright side." Marisol suggested. "You have to get out of that chair now; you need to be able to run."

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Latina." His tone was flat, but she recognized the underlying humor in his voice.

"Did you seriously just phone to find out how likely it is that Molly's gonna kill you?" Marisol answered with a giggle.

"No." All humor in Ryan's voice evaporated. "This whole thing's made me realize how lucky I am. I'm not gonna be home for another couple hours, because another case has come in, but I just wanted to phone to say I love you."

Marisol smiled, slightly tearfully. "I love you too, Ryan." She knew how much Jesse's predicament had shaken him and they have had several conversations like this over the past month, although never over the phone.

"I'd better go; Aaron's just got back with a bagful of evidence from South Beach. Apparently Molly's chasing up an ID on the guy."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get home. Love you." Marisol hung up and dropped her phone back on the side. She was just about to go back to her book when she heard a soft noise and smiled, standing up. "Okay, sweetheart, what's wrong?" She turned the lights up in the nursery and stopped next to the crib.

But Annabelle was fast asleep where she'd left her and Marisol frowned for a second, wondering if maybe she'd imagined it. But then the noise came again, a soft sigh that echoed round the quiet apartment and that definitely didn't come from her daughter.

Quickly, Marisol left the nursery and moved to the spare room, opening the door quietly. She must have imagined it, she told herself; the chances of Nat waking up on the same day they found out that she was okay had to be low. The thought occurred to her that she could have easily woken up in the autopsy drawer, but she wasn't sure if that horrified her or amused her; Nat's first autopsy had been punctuated by one of the students lying under a sheet and moaning, and she knew that the other woman would have found the irony funny, after the initial terror of waking up in one of those things.

Natalia was lying still, her eyes closed, her face serene, with no sign that the noise had come from her.

Marisol sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand. "Nat? Nat, can you hear me? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

In the back of her mind, she remembered being in that same situation in a hospital room several years previously, just before Nat arrived at the precinct, except back then it was Jesse who was unconscious and Horatio trying to get him to respond.

A soft smile crossed her face. "I've been here before, Nat. And Jesse recovered, so you have to as well." She thought she felt something around her hand, but it was so slight that she couldn't be sure. "You can hear me, Nat. Come on; give me some sort of sign that you can hear me."

There was no doubt about it this time; Nat's fingers closed around hers and squeezed softly.

Marisol stiffened slightly. "Nat?" She held her breath and watched as Nat's eyes slowly flickered open.

Chapter 5

"Nat?" Marisol repeated as Nat's eyes closed again. Releasing her hand, she pressed to shaking fingers against her neck, feeling her pulse stronger than before.

As though the other woman was reading her mind, she inhaled deeply and her breathing evened out, more obviously this time.

"Its okay, Nat." Marisol soothed, releasing her hand gently. "I'm gonna call Delko and then I'll get hold of Jesse, okay?"

Marisol stood up and hurried back out into the living room, grabbing the phone and dialing automatically, not even needing to think about the numbers.

"Delko."

"Eric, its Marisol. Did Horatio tell you about Nat?"

"Boa Vista?" Delko repeated. "No. What about her?"

Marisol sighed. "She's not dead, just unconscious, and she just woke up. I kinda need you here; she's in my spare room."

"Alright, Marisol, I'm on my way."

Marisol barely waited for the dialing tone before running through another number, knowing from experience that Jesse's phone was either turned off or nowhere near him.

"Aaron Michaels."

"Aaron, it's Marisol; Nat is awake. You know where Cardoza is?"

"Yeah, he's with Molly, looking for an ID for our Vic."

"Good; that's …" Marisol frowned. "How is he back at work? I've got both his guns."

"He had another spare." Aaron explained apologetically.

"I'm gonna kill him." Marisol muttered.

"I told him you would."

Marisol smiled. "Right, you need to call Molly; tell her that Nat woke up, that Delko is on his way and I want Jesse here as soon as possible."

"Right."

Marisol hung up for the second time in as many minutes and went back to the spare room, offering up a prayer of thanks to whoever was listening.

"Molly, its Aaron. Marisol just called."

Molly cast a glance at Jesse, who seemed lost in his thoughts, oblivious to her. "What did she say?"

"She said that Nat woke up briefly; she's called Eric to check her over, but she wants us to get Cardoza there ASAP."

"Got it." Molly assured him. "I'll tell him. Later." She hung up. "That was Aaron. I think I'd better drive."

"What did he find?" Jesse asked, getting out the car without question.

Molly shifted across to the driver's seat, feeling guilty; it normally took a good five minutes for her to convince him to let her drive. "Nothing." She answered once he was back in the car. "At least, nothing to do with the case."

"Then why do you need to drive?" Jesse prompted.

Molly sighed, pulling out into traffic. "First of all, I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier, but Marisol wanted us to wait; something about not losing her again."

"Losing who again?" Jesse asked with a confused frown.

"Tom started Detective Boa Vista's autopsy this morning." Molly stated, seeing his expression turn haunted. She struggled to find a good way of explaining what had happened without sounding crazy and, eventually, just gave up. "Or, rather, he didn't, because he and Marisol realized that she still had a pulse."

"What?" Jesse stared at her for a few minutes. "You're telling me Nat is still alive?"

"That's what I'm telling you." Molly glanced at him. "Her parents and the team know. Marisol suggested we wait until she woke up before telling you and everyone else."

"And she has?" Jesse guessed, a genuine smile appearing on his face.

"Briefly." Molly told him gently. "But Delko should be there now; I'll drop you off and head into the lab."

"You're sure she woke up?" Delko asked as Marisol let him into the apartment. "It wasn't just a reflex movement?"

"No, her eyes opened." Marisol gestured towards the spare room. "I asked Aaron to get hold of Jesse. She's gonna be alright, right? That's why she opened her eyes."

"I don't know." Delko set his case down. "I tell you, if you'd told me yesterday I'd be doing this, I'd have thought you were crazy." Like Marisol, he lifted Nat's hand. "Detective Boa Vista? Natalia, I need you to open your eyes for me. Did she say anything?"

"No." Marisol wrapped her arms around herself as a soft wail started somewhere else in the apartment. "She just opened her eyes and closed them again. That's Annabelle; excuse me."

"Sure." Delko squeezed again. "Natalia, you need to open your eyes again. Is it the light? If you want me to turn the light down, squeeze my hand."

Her fingers contracted lightly against his and he released her hand to dim the lights.

"Okay, Natalia, you can open your eyes now."

For a second, nothing happened; then her eyes fluttered open again. "Eric?" Her voice was quiet and hoarse, shaky with misuse.

"Hang on." Delko told her. "Don't try to talk." He opened his case and pulled out a bottle of water, holding it to her lips. "Here."

Nat swallowed and managed a small smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Delko pulled out a torch. "Okay, Natalia, I need to check you for injuries now; do you remember what happened?"

"Not really." Nat stared straight ahead as he shone the torch in to her eyes. "I remember Horatio asking for my help with an undercover job."

"Uh huh?" Delko pulled the covers down slightly. "Can you pull your shirt up a bit? That's it."

The wound was nasty, spread across her abdomen. By now, it had more or less healed completely, new skin almost covering the stitches.

"What happened to me?" Nat whispered, staring at it.

"You were shot." Delko told her. "What was the undercover job to do with?"

"Suspect X." Nat frowned. "No. No, that's already happened. A while ago. I remember…"

"It doesn't have to seem important." Delko said quietly. "Just tell me the last thing you remember doing."

Nat was quiet for a minute. "Phoning Jesse."

"Alright, do you remember what day it was?" Delko pressed.

"Wednesday." Nat responded immediately. "It was … it was my day off." Her face lit up suddenly as Marisol came back with Annabelle, who reached out for her.

Marisol glanced at Delko, who nodded, before she placed the baby in Nat's outstretched arms.

"Hey, beautiful girl!" Nat cooed. "Haven't you grown bigger?"

"Nat, we need to know how much you remember." Marisol told her. "What were you talking to Cardoza about?"

"We were…" Nat blushed lightly, still used to keeping their relationship quiet. "We were making plans to meet up when I got off shift." She frowned. "But it was my day off. Why was I at work?"

"Only you can answer that." Delko said. "We need to let your memory come back on its own."

Nat sighed. "Okay. I … I was escorting Connor Dunbrook to the courthouse. Benson's daughter was sick." She nodded. "Yeah, that's right. He couldn't do it, so the captain pulled me in. Dunbrook treated us to breakfast. Jesse was teasing me about how predictable my choice of menu was."

A loud knocking started at the door and Marisol took Annabelle back to go and answer it.

"Keep going." Delko prompted when Nat faltered.

"There … there was a crash and … an 18-wheeler came through the store-front …" Nat swallowed hard.

"… I don't care, Marisol; I need to see her …"

"I think I shot him … I don't remember …" Nat's breathing quickened slightly and tears began forming in her dark eyes, her memory flooding back and promptly making her wish she couldn't remember again. "I remember my stomach hurting and … Jesse talking to me … is he here? I need to see him."

"Nat…" Delko began.

"I know." Nat interrupted. "I know I need to be checked over, but I need to see him. Please."

"Alright." Delko went to the door. "Its okay, Mari."

He disappeared through the doorway and Jesse appeared in it. "Nat…"

"Hey." Nat whispered, fighting to keep the tears back. "Why aren't I in hospital?"

"You were." Jesse moved towards her almost automatically, falling to his knees beside her, taking her hand in his. "You alright?"

"My stomach hurts." Nat murmured. "And I'm a little stiff. How long was I out?"

"A month." Jesse answered, leaning forwards to kiss her forehead. "God, Nat, we thought …"

"Hey," Nat repeated, reaching to cup his face. "I'm fine."

"I know." Jesse closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them; her tears were mirrored in their blue depths.

"What happened?" Nat asked again. "Why's everyone acting like they've seen a ghost?"

"Well, technically we have." Marisol answered from the doorway.

"They pronounced you dead, Natalia." Delko explained, coming back in. "Your heart stopped after the surgery to repair the damage and they pronounced you dead after 20 minutes. It wasn't until Tom went to start the autopsy that we found out you're alive."

"That's not that impressive." Nat insisted, looking from one face to the next. "Is it?"

"Nat, the shooting was a month ago." Jesse told her quietly. "The autopsy was this morning. You got that paper, Marisol?"

"Yeah." Marisol disappeared from view for a few seconds. "Couldn't bring myself to throw it out." She came back holding a copy of The Post, a photograph of Nat when she was a uniform adorning the headline: MDPD's Finest – Homicide Detective gunned down in the line of duty.

"Oh God …" Nat reached for the paper and Marisol handed it over, albeit reluctantly. "Am I okay?"

"You seem to be." Delko assured her. "You being alive have been kept quiet, so it's up to you when and where we announce that. I'd feel better – and I know any other doctor would agree – if you stayed with someone, as opposed to going home, and you'll need to get those stitches removed, but I'd give it another couple days before you do that."

"What about work?" Nat asked.

"You'll need to pass a physical and psychological eval before the captain even considers letting you back in the field." Jesse answered for Eric. "I had to go through the exact same thing."

"You're welcome to stay here, Nat." Marisol told her sincerely. "But it's completely up to you."

"Thanks, Marisol, but you've got Annabelle to look after." Nat smiled weakly. "You don't need me as well."

"Then come and stay with me." Jesse suggested, squeezing her hand.

Nat turned to argue, to say that she didn't need looking after. Then she caught the expression in his eyes, one of pain and fear. "Okay. If you're sure…"

"I am." Jesse insisted.

"Alright then." Delko closed his case again. "I gotta get back to work. I'm glad you're okay, Nat. See you later, Mari, Cardoza."

"I'm gonna take Annabelle out since you're both up." Marisol stated, glancing out the window. "I'll stop by the precinct and tell them you're okay."

"Do Mom and Dad know?" Nat asked.

"Yeah, I told them this morning." Marisol assured her. "You two alright?"

"Yeah, we're good." Jesse told her, keeping his eyes on Nat's face.

"Hey Eric, can I sit up?" Nat called after him as he and Marisol left the spare room.

"Sure, but I wouldn't try walking yet." Delko responded. "See you later guys."

Seconds after the door closed behind him, Marisol called out her own goodbye and the door shut again.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Nat winced at the stab of pain that shot through her abdomen.

"You okay?" Jesse asked immediately, moving an extra pillow behind her.

"Yeah." Nat exhaled slowly, feeling the pain recede. "I'm fine. Are you? Okay, I mean."

Jesse shook his head slowly. "Nat, you're alive. To be honest, I'm still terrified I'm about to wake up and find this has all been some amazing dream. I've relived every moment we ever spent together time and time again and all I could do was wish that I'd told you …"

"Told me what?" Nat asked quietly when he trailed off.

Jesse met her eyes, moving to wrap his arms around her. "That I love you, Nat. With you gone, my world came shuddering to a halt. And I couldn't save you; that's what hurt. Every day, I put murderers behind bars and save thousands of potential victims, but I couldn't save the one person I cared about."

Losing her battle with tears, Nat clung to him, feeling herself break in his embrace, ignoring the pain as she moved. She could feel his strong hold around his waist and his hands stroking her hair, but her mind seemed to have been cast back to the hospital, remembering the shock of realizing that they thought she was dead, realizing that she could easily be buried alive. Her grip tightened and she forced herself to focus on the fact that she was alive, that he was still there and that she was safe, safe in his arms once again.

"I was so scared. I love you so much. Please stay with me."

It took Nat a few minutes to decipher the words and a few minutes longer to realize that they were coming from her mouth and not his.

Jesse was rocking her carefully, his fingers raking through her dark brown hair, murmuring softly to her. "It's alright, Nat; its okay. You're safe now; I'm not going anywhere."

"What if he comes back?" Nat whispered, knowing that the fear was irrational even as the words left her mouth.

"He won't, Nat; I promise." Jesse kissed her forehead. "He's dead."

"Dead?" Nat repeated, pulling back to meet his eyes. "How?"

"I shot him." Jesse answered evenly. "He was killed resisting arrest."

"Jesse, you never take a man down if you don't have to." Nat disagreed, seeing him avoid her gaze. "And given that I know I already plugged two into his shoulder, I doubt he was resisting that much."

Jesse sighed. "Alright. I never could lie to you. When I caught up with him, he was on the ground. I saw the gun on the floor and the wound in his shoulder and I knew … I pulled the trigger, Nat. I'm not proud of it, but I don't regret it, not for a second."

"But you bleed blue!" Nat protested weakly. "What happens if IA find out?"

"The only people who know what happened are Ryan and I. And now you." Jesse soothed. "I think the others have an idea, but no one's gonna say anything."

"But what if they do?" Nat pressed. "What happens if you lose your job? You always said nothing was worth that; we've seen cops get close to doing that before, remember?"

"That was before I realized what they were going through." Jesse admitted quietly, cupping her face. "I used to think there was nothing more important than my career – although you were a close second – but I know now that there is nothing more important to me than you." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers; the kiss was soft, sweet, but with an edge of desperation that confirmed his words.

Nat pulled away first, resting her forehead on his, her hands still clutching his shirt, reluctant to release him. "I love you, Nat. I'm not going anywhere." Her eyes slid to the paper that lay on the bed. "I am a little curious as to what they wrote though."

Jesse chuckled. "Yeah, I would've found it a little funny if it wasn't you."

Curiosity now more than peaked; Nat picked up the paper and opened it to the first page, to find a full obituary. Scanning it quickly, she realized what was so amusing; for all the many quotes claiming the impact she had had on someone's life and how much she would be missed, there was not one name she actually recognized. "Who are these people?"

"Higher-ups who wanted some good publicity to show that they really do care for the little people." Jesse answered sarcastically.

Nat shook her head, about to close the paper and discard it, when a small passage near the end caught her eye. One of Detective Boa Vista's colleagues had this to say: "She was, without a doubt, the best homicide detective I've worked with. Natalia was an amazing woman, whose love, strength and compassion touched the lives of everyone she came in contact with. If she were here right now, she'd be telling me off for even thinking what I'm about to say, but her behavior didn't lie; she was MDPD's angel." "Not all of them." She pointed to the quote. "That was you."

Jesse's face flushed slightly, proving her right. "How did you know?"

"Because everyone else at the precinct would say that you were the best homicide detective they'd worked with." Nat stated. "Plus, you're my partner; you'd be the person the captain asked to make a statement. Not to mention, you're the only person who'd dare make a pun like that – MDPD's angel?"

Jesse smiled and kissed her head. "My angel."

Several nights after she came to, Nat woke in Jesse's apartment, a searing pain in her abdomen.

True to her word, she had been staying with him, although she insisted that he kept working, since she didn't need round-the-clock care. As it happened, she was very rarely alone; while he was at work, Marisol often called round, as did Calleigh and Molly – who Nat quite enjoyed talking to about everything, simply because she could look at the situation objectively. Even Jesse's sister had popped round a couple of times.

Her wound had been behaving itself since the first night after her stitches were removed, but now it made itself very apparent, bringing tears to her eyes.

A glance at the clock told her that Jesse should be home from work. Slowly, Nat pushed herself into a sitting position. "Jesse?"

The door to the bathroom opened suddenly and she glanced up, meeting Jesse's worried gaze. "Nat, you okay?" He took in the pain on her face and the hand clutching her stomach and he winced. "Hang on." He ducked back into the bathroom for a second and emerged with a small tube. "I had the same thing after the bomb; it just acted up for no reason. Hold still." He squeezed some of the cream onto his fingers and pushed her shirt up with his free hand, gently brushing it into the scar.

To her surprise, Nat felt the pain receding. "Wow, that's quick. Thanks."

"No problem." Jesse put the tube down on the bedside table and kissed her forehead. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Nat settled back down, realizing as she did that it was the first time she'd seen her boyfriend shirtless since the shooting; he normally wore a wife beater to bed and either changed in the bathroom or she'd been asleep.

A small stream of moonlight coming from the crack in the curtains reflected off the mirror as he moved, illuminating the room slightly and she narrowed her eyes slightly, seeing an unfamiliar mark on the skin she knew so well. "Jesse, I thought you were scared of needles."

"I am." Jesse shuddered at the very thought, rooting through a drawer for a shirt.

Maybe I'm wrong. Nat remembered when he'd admitted his fear to her, at the same time she had confessed to her fear of spiders, and knew that his fear was worse than hers. And that was saying something. "So when'd you get a tattoo?"

Jesse glanced down at his chest and she saw his face turn red in the dim light.

"You're blushing." Nat teased. "Come on. When?"

"About three weeks ago." Jesse muttered.

The timing wasn't lost on her and her demeanor softened. "Jesse. Come here."

Abandoning his search, Jesse sat down on the edge of the bed and Nat flicked on the small lamp at her side.

Her hand reached out of its own accord, her fingers brushing across the words on his chest, directly over his heart: Forever my Angel.

"If I'm honest," Jesse murmured, "I was hammered when I made the appointment."

"But not when you had it done?" Nat guessed, knowing that even the seediest places wouldn't take drunk customers. "You're crazy."

"Yeah I am." Jesse agreed, catching her hand as it withdrew and kissing it. "About you."

Nat's eyes left his torso and met his gaze. "Was that a line, Cardoza? Did you just bust out your game on me?"

"Game?" Jesse smirked. "I have no game, Nat. If I do, that's as good as it gets. How's your stomach?"

"There's a mood-killer for you." Nat rolled her eyes. "Better, thanks."

Jesse smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Nat; but, if I didn't do something to kill the mood, I couldn't be held responsible for my actions." He laced his fingers with hers. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know." Nat sighed, tilting her head back as he leant down to kiss her. "I love you."

"I love you too." Jesse murmured, parting from her. "Just let me grab a shirt."

"Forget the shirt." Nat suggested. "Just come and get some sleep. You look exhausted. Did you catch the guy who killed Wexford's brother?"

"Yeah." Jesse stifled a yawn and slid in next to her. "Apparently, the woman he saw dropping his brother off was married and her husband decided to knock off the 'other guy'."

"Ah." Nat rolled over carefully so she could rest her head on his chest, feeling his hand cover the scar on her stomach protectively. "It wasn't really that simple, was it?"

"Nah." Jesse chuckled. "Contrary to what he told his brother, 'Mandy' was Kevin's tutor, not his girlfriend; she was helping him get back to school."

"So the poor woman lost her husband and her job at the same time." Nat sighed. "What's wrong with this city?"

"Right now?" Jesse asked, kissing her forehead. "Absolutely nothing."

Chapter 6

Marisol closed the oven and wiped her hands on her apron, before hurrying to the door and opening it. "Hey, Molly."

"Hey." Molly hugged her. "Merry Christmas! How exhausted are you? Honestly?"

"Very." Marisol laughed, closing the door. "It feels like I haven't slept in a week and I've only been up a few hours."

"Where's Annabelle?" Molly asked curiously.

"It's naptime." Marisol responded.

"And Ryan?"

"It's naptime." Marisol repeated. "He's fast asleep on the couch, Annabelle's with him and I haven't got the heart to wake either of them.

Molly glanced into the living room as she passed, seeing Annabelle curled up like a puppy on Ryan's chest. "This is a beautiful house, Marisol; did you know Ryan had done this?"

Marisol smiled. The day before, Ryan had insisted they go out as a family and had directed her – unable to drive himself – to a beautiful two-storey house in Miami. It was exactly the sort of house she had always dreamed of raising a family in, with soft white walls, a park nearby and a backyard that was just big enough for their family. Then, with a smile, he had handed her the keys and kissed her, telling her it was theirs.

"I had no idea." Marisol laughed. "I'd already invited everyone round today, but I was expecting to have to fit everyone in to the apartment."

Molly pulled herself up on to the counter. "Is Annabelle enjoying her first Christmas?"

Marisol smiled softly, going back to stirring the stuffing. "I don't think she really understands the concepts of presents, but she likes the colors and Ian adores her."

"Ian?" Molly repeated. Her curiosity was answered by a soft clicking on the floor and a terrier puppy trotted up to her, nosing her hand. "Oh, he's lovely!"

"Yeah, Christmas present from the lab; Delko dropped him round this morning." Marisol grinned as the doorbell went again. "Do you mind answering that?"

"Sure." Molly hopped down again and disappeared, Ian trotting along at her heels.

Marisol carefully poured the stuffing on to a tray, spreading it out. She thought back to last Christmas, when she and Ryan had only just gotten back together; she could never have known that in just twelve months time, she would be cooking Christmas dinner in the kitchen of their first house, on their first Christmas day as a married couple with their first child.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Wolfe!" Jesse's voice sounded behind her and a kiss landed on the side of her head.

"Merry Christmas to you two too." Marisol slid the stuffing into the oven and turned around to see that both Jesse and Nat were wearing identical grins. "You two look very pleased with yourselves. What did you do?"

"Do we want them to answer that?" Molly questioned with a smirk.

"Mind out the gutter, Sloan." Jesse stated cheerfully. "Where's Wolfey Boy?"

"Asleep with Annabelle." Marisol answered. "If you can get her into her crib without waking her up, by all means, get him up."

"Right, Mari."

Marisol pulled a chair out at the kitchen table. "Sit down, Nat; you shouldn't be on your feet for long."

Nat sighed, but did as she was told. "I'm alright, you know."

"I know." Marisol smiled sympathetically at her. "But you're just gonna have to deal with us worrying about you."

Nat sighed again, but this time with mock-exasperation. "Fine! I suppose I can live with that." She reached down to scratch Ian's head as he came over to investigate this new visitor.

"So why are you so happy?" Molly asked.

"Jesse suggested we make this whole 'living together' thing permanent, not just until I've recovered." Nat explained, glancing up as Jesse reappeared with a sleeping Annabelle and taking her from him. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing." Jesse smiled innocently at her, kissed her forehead and vanished again.

"Oh boy." Nat sighed. "Do you like your husband with his heart the way it is?"

"Ryan's made of stronger stuff than you think." Molly assured her. "He can take whatever Cardoza throws at him and then more."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it." Nat looked down and bounced Annabelle softly in her arms as she stirred. "I just hope whatever it is doesn't wake the baby."

"Jesse wouldn't dare." Marisol stated quietly. "If he does, you're losing a room-mate."

There was a splash and a thud from the other room, followed by a loud groan. "Cardoza, I hate you right now."

Marisol sighed. "He just got water all over the couch, didn't he?"

Molly stuck her head round the door. "Yup."

Marisol sighed wearily. "Not gonna bother." She smiled at Nat. "So you and Jesse, huh? You seen his tattoo yet?"

"Yeah." Nat blushed lightly. "I can't believe he did that."

"Neither could I." Marisol shook her head. "He really loves you, Nat."

"And Ryan really loves you." Molly added. "So congratulations, ladies, for successfully taming the two players of MDPD. I salute you."

"You'll need a drink for that." Marisol stated, handing her a glass. "Nat?"

"Non-alcoholic." Nat requested, provoking two knowing looks. "Nuh-uh. Nothing like that. I'm still on meds and it's a bad combination. Believe me, you'd be the first to know if it was anything else."

"What was anything else?" Jesse asked, wringing water from his shirt. "He's up, Marisol."

"So I heard." Marisol muttered.

"These two were just jumping to conclusions." Nat explained, taking the glass Marisol held out.

"That's non-alcoholic, right?" Jesse asked a hint of protectiveness in his voice.

"Yes." Nat sighed. "Of course."

"Oh, my God!"

Marisol took Annabelle from Nat as she jolted awake with a wail. "Calleigh!"

"Sorry." Calleigh whispered, although her wide grin stated the exact opposite.

"How'd you two get in?" Marisol asked, rocking her daughter back into her slumber.

"Ryan gave us a key." Horatio answered, taking his goddaughter from her. "What brought that on, Calleigh?"

"Probably the same conclusion Marisol and Molly jumped to." Nat muttered. "I'm not pregnant, Calleigh; I'm just on meds."

"Oh." Calleigh looked a little sheepish. "Yeah, that makes more sense."

"But I think there's a couple of a people over on South Beach who didn't quite hear you." Nat added, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked and everyone laughed; Marisol recovered first, gesturing towards the door. "Okay, out of the kitchen, all of you. I just need to baste the turkey and then we can open some presents."

If anyone had been about to argue, the mention of gifts shut them up pretty quick and they all filed into the living room, where Ryan was attempting to lift himself back into his chair. "Guys, I could use a hand here."

Calleigh smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry, Ryan; your therapist says we should let you do this yourself to get your muscles used to working again."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "So none of you are gonna take pity on me; is that it?"

"Hey, I feel your pain, Ryan." Nat smiled at him, as she sat down again. "But my own therapist says I shouldn't lift heavy loads."

"Then can't you sweet-talk Cardoza into helpin' me out?" Ryan groaned. "It's Christmas!"

"Well, if you put it that way," Nat shrugged, "Jesse, give your best friend a hand up; you put him there in the first place."

"You call that sweet-talking me into it?" Jesse asked. "You're losing your touch, Nat."

"Alright." Nat smirked, gesturing for her boyfriend to lean down closer to her. "Either you help him or I will."

"I'll do it." Jesse decided, grabbing Ryan's arm and helping him into the chair.

"Yeah, I thought you would." Nat muttered, exchanging a grin with Molly and Calleigh.

Another knock at the door prompted Marisol to make a detour to let Aaron and Delko in, the latter stooping to pat Ian as he raced over to them.

"Alright." Marisol announced as they joined the others in the living room. "Time for presents. Who wants to go first?"

"I will." Calleigh reached into the pile under the tree and pulled out a box, checking the label and barely concealing her smile. "Jesse, this is from all of us; please take the hint."

With a slightly wary expression, Jesse opened the box and laughed out loud. "Ties?"

"Ties." Calleigh confirmed with a grin. "I know yours have been getting better – thank you, Nat – but you still need a little help."

"I'll make sure he listens." Nat promised with a smirk.

"My turn." Ryan pulled out a present, checked the label and handed it to his wife. "Also from all of us."

Marisol carefully opened the present and laughed as well, pulling out a t-shirt that read 'MDPD Mommy'. "Do we all have a present like that in there?"

"Pretty much." Calleigh nodded. "You should see what we sent to Tom's house."

"What?" Nat asked curiously.

"A book called '101 Creepy Medical Stories'." Delko sniggered. "I figured he must be running out of his own by now." He picked up another gift. "Horatio."

Horatio pulled out a pen. "What's this for?"

"Your paperwork." Calleigh smirked at him. "When you press the button to open it, it starts a timer; if you write for more than three hours non-stop, this happens." She took the pen from him and pressed the button five times in quick succession, causing a female voice to announce, "You're working too hard; time for a break!"

Horatio chuckled. "So it's you in pocket-form then."

"Pretty much." Calleigh agreed.

Horatio picked out a present and tossed it to Aaron. "See if you can guess?"

Aaron took in the long, thin shape. "A football?"

Marisol laughed, taking Annabelle from Horatio as she woke up again. "Just open it."

Aaron lifted out a strap. "Oh, cool, it's for my iPod, right? Crime scene tape."

"Right." Ryan nodded.

Aaron pulled out a slip of paper. "What's this?" He read it, his eyes going wide. "Is this for real?"

"I don't joke about things like that, Aaron." Horatio stated.

"What does it say?" Molly asked.

"It says that I'm eligible to take the exam to become a CSI next year." Aaron grinned. "And now I've got your attention, Detective Sloan, why don't you take this?"

Molly took the present from him. "I've been back just over a week; how'd you know I'd be here?"

"We've had that around for a while." Ryan shrugged.

Molly opened it and laughed. "A GPS tracker?"

"That way we know where you are next time you vanish off the face of the earth." Ryan explained.

"Oh, very funny." Molly leaned over, rooted around until she found his name and handed it to him. "See what yours is."

"I can think of several things." Ryan balanced the large box on his lap and unwrapped it, pulling out a small padded basinet with brackets down one side; he grinned. "A sidecar?"

"Hey, you said it needed one." Aaron got up and strapped it to the side of Ryan's wheelchair. "See? Put this teddy bear in here like that."

"And Annabelle's along for the ride." Marisol settled the baby down against the bear. "Oh, but this thing goes anywhere near your bike and you're on the couch for a month, chair or no chair."

Ryan winced. "Yes, ma'am."

Marisol smiled triumphantly and picked up another gift. "Eric."

Delko opened it to find a book. "The Encyclopedia of Titbit Information."

Calleigh smiled at him. "I thought you might find it interesting; Horatio once told me you were the walking version."

"Which means this one," Jesse picked it up, "is for you, Calleigh?"

"No." Marisol disagreed, handing her a different gift. "This one's for Calleigh."

Calleigh pulled out a picture frame that held a collage of photographs of different CSIs and lab techs, surrounding one large picture of all of them together. "When was this taken?"

"At last year's Christmas party." Marisol answered. "We had Aaron Photoshop them all together and then personalized the frame for you."

Calleigh traced the wording on the wood at the top, reading them quietly. "Le Familia O min treasusrea." She glanced up. "Your family is your treasure."

"Damn right it is." Jesse agreed. "You always look after us, Call; it's about time we did something for you. But, in that case, who's this one for?" He held up the last present.

"Stop messing around, Jesse; you know who it's for." Marisol chided lightly.

"Oh, right." Jesse grinned and handed it to Nat. "Merry Christmas."

"Guys, you didn't need to get me anything!" Nat protested. "I haven't…"

"Having you here and alive is all we could have ever asked for." Horatio interrupted. "Just open it, smile and say thank you."

Nat couldn't help the laugh that escaped her and pulled the paper off, opening the small box to find a badge. "Honorary CSI." She read. "Oh, that's so sweet of you guys!"

"Hey!" Jesse frowned. "How long have I worked with you lot?"

"We like her better." Ryan stated with a grin.

"Funny, Wolfe." Jesse responded. "You're lucky you're in that chair or I'd…"

"This one's not a mock-up." Nat cut him off, pulling out the second badge, her fingers tracing over the familiar numbers at the bottom. "Shouldn't this be in lock-up somewhere?"

"Eh, I pulled some strings." Horatio shrugged. "Figured you'd want your own badge back sooner or later."

Nat met his eyes, her own suspiciously bright. "Thank you."

"Hey." Delko spoke up. "I think most of these presents under here are for Miss Annabelle here. How about we don't keep her waiting any longer?"

"I like that idea." Marisol stood up. "Let me just check on the food."

Nat smiled and leaned into Jesse's side, feeling him shift to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"You tired?" He murmured.

"Little bit." Nat admitted. "I'm alright; don't worry. You okay?"

Jesse kissed her forehead. "You're here, aren't you?"

Marisol came back in, her gaze almost immediately falling on the two of them. "Don't overstretch yourself, Nat."

"I'm not." Nat assured her. "I'm sitting down and everything. I think Annabelle's starting to catch on to the meaning of presents now; you're about to have a very hyperactive child on your hands."

Marisol glanced over at her daughter and winced. "I see what you mean. Annabelle!" She picked up a present. "Look, sweetheart; this is from Nana and Grandpa. Shall we open it and see what it is?"

"It's not a pocket-knife, is it?" Ryan asked warily.

Marisol rolled her eyes. "Ryan, don't be stupid. Not even my father would send a three-month-old baby a pocket-knife." She pulled the paper away to find a plush horse, complete with saddle. "Aww!"

"Oh, that's so cute!" Nat agreed.

Marisol picked up a slip of paper that had fallen to the ground. "Daddy says it's a miniature version of the real thing."

"Your parents got her a horse?!" Ryan gaped. "How are we gonna top that? More to the point, where are we gonna keep it?"

Marisol sighed wearily. "Ryan, they're not sending the horse here. The horse will live with my parents; all of my nieces and nephews have one."

"Hey, look!" Delko pointed at the window. "It's snowing!"

"We got a white Christmas after all." Calleigh commented, following his gaze.

"Just like Christmas in Spain." Marisol murmured.

Ryan took her hand. "Would you believe me if I told you I made it snow just for you?"

Marisol smiled at him. "No. And that's possibly the cheesiest thing you've ever said to me."

"Careful, Mari." Jesse warned. "Don't challenge him."

Marisol rolled her eyes and kissed her husband, before giving Annabelle the horse, whereupon she promptly stuck one of its hooves in her mouth.

Molly smiled, perching on the arm of the couch next to Nat. "It's good to be back."

"Yeah, it is." Nat agreed. "And I don't remember going anywhere."

"Oh, it's so cute!" Marisol exclaimed, pulling out a pale pink baby version of a lab coat.

Aaron grinned. "You're welcome."

"I told you they'd appreciate that more that Guitar Hero." Calleigh told him.

Molly turned to Nat. "More than what?"

Jesse grinned. "Hey, Aaron, Molly's never heard of Guitar Hero."

"You're kidding right?" Aaron asked. "It's only, like, the greatest video game invention ever!"

Nat sniggered as Aaron began explaining the game and how it was played. Marisol noticed as well, and leaned over to her. "Is it just me or is Molly actually paying attention to him?"

"It's not just you." Nat confirmed. "I didn't think that was even possible."

Marisol laughed quietly, before moving over to stop Annabelle from sticking a stray piece of wrapping paper in her mouth.

Nat glanced over at Jesse, who had a suddenly pensive look on his face. "Okay?"

Jesse started slightly and smiled at her. "Yeah. Just wondering how long it'll take Aaron to ask Molly out."

"You think he will?" Nat asked.

"Why not?" Jesse shrugged. "He likes her."

Nat smirked. "And she likes him. I bet she beats him to it."

"How much?" Jesse asked immediately.

"Dinner?" Nat suggested.

"You're on." Jesse agreed, kissing her quickly.

"Hey guys; no PDA!" Ryan protested.

"You know, if Annabelle wasn't here, I'd be telling you where to stick it." Jesse warned.

"But Annabelle is here." Marisol reminded him. "And I know you're not that stupid."

"Are you sure?" Nat asked, humor shining in her eyes.

Jesse nudged her lightly. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't get you for that later."

"Because you love me." Nat smirked.

His arm tightened around her in response, but his face slipped back into that thoughtful expression.

"Hey." Nat called quietly. "Everything okay?"

Jesse looked over at Calleigh, who was kneeling beside Marisol examining a box of baby-clothes sent by Ryan's parents.

Then he looked at Ryan, still in his wheelchair, but with his daughter in her little sidecar, both smiles wider than any he'd seen before.

Then he looked at Horatio and Delko, who were – for want of a better word – bickering about some strangely complicated subject he couldn't make head or tail of; they'd started several days previously and tried to explain it to him, but after a few minutes, he had shaken his head and left them to it, trying desperately to unwind his brain.

Then he looked over at Molly and Aaron, the latter still talking, gesturing about something, but his companion hadn't stopped him yet and was, instead, looking quite interested.

Then he looked back at the woman next to him, a curious expression on her face, love and concern in her eyes.

He thought about how close he came to losing her forever.

He thought about how his relationship with his sister suddenly became the opposite of what it had been for a month; suddenly, she was calling by his apartment late at night, clearing up empty bottles and getting him into bed, before forcing a gallon of coffee down his throat the next morning and lecturing him on what he was doing to himself.

He thought about how lucky he was that someone or something had heard his prayers and given him another chance with his angel.

"Yeah." He answered, a smile appearing on his face as she nestled into his side with a contented sigh. "Everything's perfect."


End file.
